‘What are _you_ staring at?’ ‘Nothing, that I know.’ He hung up his hat, and sat down. ‘I’ve a note to write; wait a minute.’ The note written, and given to a clerk, Crewe seemed to recover equanimity. His visitor told him all that happened in De Crespigny Park, even to the crudest details, and they laughed together uproariously. ‘I’m going to take a flat,’ Beatrice then informed him. ‘Just find me something convenient and moderate, will you? A bachelor’s flat.’ ‘What about Fanny?’ ‘She has something on; I don’t know what it is. Talks about going to Brussels--with a friend.’ Crewe looked astonished. ‘You ought to see after her. I know what the end ‘ll be. Brussels? I’ve heard of English girls going there, but they don’t usually come back.’ ‘What can I do? I’m pretty certain that Damerel woman has a game on hand. She doesn’t want Fanny to marry her nephew--if Lord _is_ her nephew. She wants his money, that’s my idea.’ ‘Mine, too,’ remarked the other quietly. ‘Look here, old chap, it’s your duty to look after your little damned fool of a sister; I tell you that plainly. I shan’t think well of you if you don’t.’ Beatrice displayed eagerness to defend herself. She had done her best; Fanny scorned all advice, and could not be held against her will. ‘Has she given up all thought of Lord?’ ‘I’m not sure, but I think so. And it looks as if he was going his own way, and didn’t care much. He never writes to her now. Of course it’s that woman’s doing.’ Crewe reflected. ‘I shall have to look into Mrs. Damerel’s affairs. Might be worth while. Where is she living?’ He made a note of the information. ‘Well, anything else to tell me?’ Beatrice spoke of business matters, then asked him if he had been out of town lately. The question sounded rather abrupt, and caused Crewe to regard her with an expression she privately interpreted. ‘A few short runs. Nowhere particular.’ ‘Oh?--Not been down into Cornwall?’ He lost his temper. ‘What are you after? What business is it of yours? If you’re going to spy on me, I’ll soon let you know that I won’t stand that kind of thing.’ ‘Don’t disturb yourself,’ said Beatrice, with a cold smile. ‘I haven’t been spying, and you can go where you like for anything I care. I guessed you _had_ been down there, that’s all.’ Crewe kept silence, his look betraying uneasiness as well as anger. Speaking at length, he fixed her with keen eyes. ‘If it’s any satisfaction to you, you’re welcome to know that I have been into Cornwall--and to Falmouth.’ Beatrice merely nodded, and still he searched her face. ‘Just answer me a plain question, old chap. Come, there’s no nonsense between us; we know each other--eh?’ ‘Oh yes, we know each other,’ Miss. French answered, her lips puckering a little. ‘What do you know about _her_? What has she been doing all this time?’ Beatrice laughed. ‘I know just as little about her as I care.’