Let's go upstairs! I've time for one pool."
"I haven't," Aynesworth answered. "I've a commission to do."
He left the club and walked westwards, humming softly to himself, but
thinking all the time intently. His errand disturbed him. He was to be
the means of bringing together again these two people who had played
the principal parts in Lovell's drama--his new employer and the woman
who had ruined his life. What was the object of it? What manner of
vengeance did he mean to deal out to her? Lovell's words of
premonition returned to him just then with curious insistence--he was
so certain that Wingrave's reappearance would lead to tragical
happenings. Aynesworth himself never doubted it. His brief interview
with the man into whose service he had almost forced himself had
impressed him wonderfully. Yet, what weapon was there, save the crude
one of physical force, with which Wingrave could strike?
He rang the bell at No. 13, Cadogan Street, and sent in his card by
the footman. The man accepted it doubtfully.
"Her ladyship has only just got up from luncheon, sir, and she is not
receiving this afternoon," he announced.
Aynesworth took back his card, and scribbled upon it the name of the
newspaper for which he still occasionally worked.
"Her ladyship will perhaps see me," he said, handing the card back to
the man. "It is a matter of business. I will not detain her for more
than a few minutes.
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