he did," she answered without hesitation. "He was talking about
him this morning. You see, father has been making a tour of the asylums.
He is writing a book about such things. Father was horrified when he
heard the man had escaped, because the doctor told him that he was a
particularly dangerous lunatic. But who would have imagined he would
have turned up here?"

Her big, sad eyes were fixed on Jack as she shook her head in wonder.

"If one had read that in a book one would never have believed it, would
one?"

"And the man Hoggins," said Jack, who did not share her wonder. "He was
by way of being an acquaintance of yours, a member of your father's
club, wasn't he?"

She knit her brows.

"I don't remember the name, but if he is a very bad character," she said
with a little smile, "I should say distinctly that he was a member of
father's club! Poor daddy, I don't think he will ever regenerate the
East End."

"I don't think he will," agreed Jack heartily. "The question is, whether
the East End will ever regenerate him."

A slow smile dawned on her face.

"How unkind!" she said, mockery in her eyes now. "I wonder why you
dislike him so. He is so very harmless, really. My dear," she turned to
the girl with a gesture of helplessness. "I am afraid that even in this
affair Mr. Glover is seeing my sinister influence!"

"You're the most un-sinister person I have ever met, Jean," laughed
Lydia, "and Mr. Glover doesn't really think all these horrid things."

"Doesn't he?" said Jean softly, and Jack saw that she was shaking with
laughter.

There was a certain deadly humour in the situation which tickled him
too, and he grinned.

"I wish to heaven you'd get married and settle down, Miss Briggerland,"
he said incautiously.

It was her chance. She shook her head, the lips drooped, the eyes again
grew moist with the pain she could call to them at will.

"I wish I could," she said in a tone a little above a whisper, "but,
Jack, I could never marry you, never!"

She left Jack Glover bereft of speech, totally incapable of arousing so
much as a moan.

Lydia, returning from escorting her visitor to the door, saw his
embarrassment and checked his impulsive explanation a little coldly.

"I--I believed you when you said it wasn't true, Mr. Glover," she said,
and there was a reproach in her tone for which she hated herself
afterwards.

Chapter XVI

Lydia had promised to go to the theatre that night with Mrs.