“I will do what can be done,” Peter Ruff promised. “Please sit down at that desk and write me two letters of introduction.” She drew off her gloves and prepared to obey him. “To whom?” she asked. “To the solicitors who are defending your brother,” he said, “and to Miss Letty Shaw.” “You mean to go and see her?” Lady Mary asked, doubtfully. “Naturally,” Peter Ruff answered. “If your supposition is correct, she might easily give herself away under a little subtle cross-examination. It is my business to know how to ask people questions in such a way that if they do not speak the truth their words give some indication of it. If she is innocent I shall know that I have to make my effort in another direction.” “What other direction can there be?” Lady Mary asked dismally. Peter Ruff said nothing. He was too kind-hearted to kindle false hopes. “It’s a hopeless case, of course,” Miss Brown remarked, after Lady Mary had departed. “I’m afraid so,” Peter Ruff answered. “Still I must earn my money. Please get some one to take you to supper to-night at the Milan, and see if you can pick up any scandal.” “About Letty?” she asked. “About either of them,” he answered. “Particularly I should like to know if any explanation has cropped up of her supping alone with Austen Abbott.” “I don’t see why you can’t take me yourself,” she remarked. “You are on the side of the law this time, at any rate.” “I will,” he answered, after a moment’s hesitation. “I will call for you at eleven o’clock to-night.” He rose and closed his desk emphatically. “You are going out?” she asked. “I am going to see Miss Letty Shaw,” he answered. He took a taxicab to the flats, and found a handful of curious people still gazing up at the third floor. The parlourmaid who answered his summons was absolutely certain that Miss Shaw would not see him. He persuaded her, after some difficulty, to take in his letter while he waited in the hall. When she returned, she showed him into a small sitting room and pulled down the blinds. “Miss Shaw will see you, sir, for a few minutes,” she announced, in a subdued tone. “Poor dear young lady,” she continued, “she has been crying her eyes out all the morning.” “No wonder,” Peter Ruff said, sympathetically. “It’s a terrible business, this!” “One of the nicest young men as ever walked,” the girl declared, firmly. “As for that brute, he deserved all he’s got, and more!” Peter Ruff was left alone for nearly a quarter of an hour. Then the door was softly opened and Letty Shaw entered. There was no doubt whatever about her suffering. Ruff, who had seen her only lately at the theatre, was shocked. Under her eyes were blacker lines than her pencil had ever traced. Not only was she ghastly pale, but her face seemed wan and shrunken. She spoke to him the moment she entered, leaning with on hand upon the sideboard. “Lady Mary writes that you want to help us,” she said. “How can you? How is it possible?”