t Breton died, and the boy came home. Revenge on his grandmother was
his one idea. He was taken up by her enemies, of whom she always had a
goodly store, and they might have made something out of him, if he
hadn't developed his father's habits and finally been mixed up in some
gambling scandal, and forced to leave the country.

"You can imagine what all this was to the Beaminsters--the great
immaculate Beaminsters--you can picture the Duchess.... He went and saw
her once ... but that's another story. Well, abroad he went, and abroad
he stayed--just now, coming out of the Gallery, I saw him----"

"You are sure?"

"Positive. There could be no mistake. He's just the same, a trifle
tireder, a trifle lower down--but the same, oh yes."

It was when Brun was most excited that he was unmistakably the
foreigner. Now little exclamations that escaped him revealed him. As a
rule in England he was more English than the English.

They had left the square and were passing up Harley Street. The houses
wore their accustomed air of profitable secrecy. The doors, the windows,
the brass knockers, the white and chastened steps were so discreet that
Sunday morning was the only time in the week when they were really
comfortable and at home. In every muffled hall there was lying in wait a
muffled man-servant, beyond every muffled man-servant there was a
muffled waiting-room with muffled illustrated papers: only the tinkling,
at long intervals, of some sharp little bell from some inner secrecy
would pierce that horrible discretion. Upon both men that shining
succession of little brass plates produced its solemnity.

Arkwright was nevertheless interested by Brun's discoveries. He was
accompanied, as they talked, by that picture of the thin, dark girl
moving restlessly her long, gloved hands. He could see now that look
that she had flung at the picture.... Oh! she was interesting!

"But tell me, Brun," he said, "you go on so fast. As I understand you
there are these two, Breton and the girl, both of them the result of
tragedies.... Do they know one another, do you suppose?"

"No. The girl was only a small child when Breton was in England, and you
can be sure that she was carefully kept out of his way. But now that
he's back ... now that he's back!"

"It's the girl that interests me!" said Arkwright.

"Oh! the girl!" Brun was almost contemptuous. "There you go--English
sentiment--missing all the time the great thing, the splendid thing."