"Very little. It was so long ago and my memory is not what it used to be. Never mind that. The advice is good anyhow. If," she continued, looking steadily up at Densham, "if it were not Mr. Harcutt who was interested in these people, if it were any one, Francis, for whose welfare I had a greater care, who was really my friend, I would make that advice, if I could, a thousand times stronger. I would implore him to have nothing whatever to do with this man or any of his creatures." Densham laughed--not very easily. His disappointment was great, but his interest was stimulated. "At any rate," he said, "the girl is harmless. She cannot have left school a year." "A year with that man," she answered, bitterly, "is a liberal education in corruption. Don't misunderstand me. I have no personal grievance against him. We have never come together, thank God! But there were stories--I cannot remember them now--I do not wish to remember them, but the impression they made still remains. If a little of what people said about him is true he is a prince of wickedness." "The girl herself----?" "I know nothing of," she admitted. Densham determined upon a bold stroke. "Look here," he said, "do me this favour--you shall never regret it. You and the Princess are intimate, I know: order your carriage and go and see her this afternoon. Ask her what she knows about that girl. Get her to tell you everything. Then let me know. Don't ask me to explain just now--simply remember that we are old friends and that I ask you to do this thing for me." She rang the bell. "My victoria at once," she told the servant. Then she turned to Densham. "I will do exactly what you ask," she said. "You can come with me and wait while I see the Princess--if she is at home. You see I am doing for you what I would do for no one else in the world. Don't trouble about thanking me now. Do you mind waiting while I get my things on? I shall only be a minute or two." Her minute or two was half an hour. Densham waited impatiently. He scarcely knew whether to be satisfied with the result of his mission or not. He had learnt a very little--he was probably going to learn a little more, but he was quite aware that he had not conducted the negotiations with any particular skill, and the bribe which he had offered was a heavy one. He was still uncertain about it when Mrs. Thorpe-Satchell reappeared. She had changed her indoor gown for a soft petunia-coloured costume trimmed with sable, and she held out her hands towards him with a delightful smile. "Céleste is wretchedly awkward with gloves," she said, "so I have left them for you. Do you like my gown?" "You look charming," he said, bending over his task, "and you know it." "I always wear my smartest clothes when I am going to see my particular friends," she declared. "They quiz one so! Besides, I do not always have an escort! Come!"