she could be useful to him in the way he
intended without knowing more than she had discovered for herself.
Doubt as to the identity of Lord Polperro with Mrs. Clover's husband he
had none whatever--face, voice, trick of lips, and eyebrows made
mistake an impossibility; but he must bring the man into a position
where there would be no choice but to reveal himself, and, so far as
Gammon knew, no one but Polly could help to that end. With Mrs. Clover
he would communicate when the facts of the strange story were made
plain; not yet a while. And as for Greenacre, why, it was splendid to
have got beforehand with that keen-scented fellow. The promise to keep
silence held good only whilst their search might be hindered by
someone's indiscretion. Now that the search was over he felt himself
free to act as he chose.

But what an astounding discovery! Again and again, by jorrocks!

He was near the theatre long before his time. He had never waited so
long or so impatiently for anyone since the days of his first
sweethearting, twenty and odd years ago. When Polly at length came out
she met him with a shyness and awkwardness which he fancied he
perfectly understood.

"I want you to come with me where we can have a quiet talk," he said at
once in a tone of eager cordiality. "It's too wet for walking; we'll
have a cab."

Polly gazed at him in unfeigned surprise, and asked where they were to
go. Not far, he replied; here was a cab; in with her. And before she
could decide upon resistance Polly was seated by him. Gammon then
explained that he had the use of a sitting-room at a coffee tavern;
they would be there in a minute or two, There was good news for
her--news that couldn't be told in the street or in a crowded
restaurant.

"Did you get my letter?" she asked, shrinking as far from him as space
allowed.

"Letter? When?"

"I posted it this morning," Polly answered in a timidly sullen voice.

He had not been home since breakfast-time. She had written to him? Now,
wasn't that a queer thing! All yesterday he, too, had thought of
writing, and to-day would have done so in any case. Never mind, the
letter would be waiting for him. Was it nice? Was it sweet and amiable,
like herself? Ha ha! Ho ho!

As he laughed the cab drew up with a jerk. Polly saw that she was in a
familiar thoroughfare and in front of a respectable establishment, but
it was not without a little distrust that she entered by the private
door and went upstairs