Successful though he was for the time being, Mr. Griffiths had been too long subservient to the angry little man who addressed him to be able to shake off his bonds. He fell back into his old state of submission, grumbling as he said: "You're a naggin' me as usual, D'Ossay, you are! Can't let a cove think for a minute and try and recollect what he'd 'eard,--you can't. What I was tryin' to bring back was this--there's a cove as I know, a theatrical gent, gets engagements for lakers and that, and provides managers of provincial gaffs with companies and so on. He was down at Hull, he was, and he come into our place one night with Mr. Munmorency of the T. R. there, as often give us a look up; and when business was over--we was rather slack that night--we went round to his 'otel to have a glass. And while we was drinkin' it and talkin' over old times, he says to me, 'Wasn't you in a swim with old Lyons and Tony Butler once?' he says. 'Not once,' I says, 'but a good many times,' I says. 'I thought so,' he says; 'and wasn't there a handsome gal named Ponsford, did a lot of business for them?' he says. 'There was,' I says; 'fortune-tellin' and Mysterious-Lady business, and all that gaff,' I says. 'That's it,' he says; 'I couldn't think where I'd seen her before.' 'When did you see her last?' I says. 'About three weeks ago,' he says, 'she come to me on a matter of business, and claimed acquaintance with me; and though I knew the face and the name, I could not think where I had seen her before.'" "Didn't you ask him anything more about her?" said Mr. Effingham. "No, I didn't. 'Twas odd, wasn't it? but I didn't. You see I wasn't on your lay then, D'Ossay, my boy, and I was rather tired with hookin' in the 'arf-crowns and calclatin' the bettin' on the ins and outs, and I was enjoyin' my smoke and lookin' forward to my night's rest." "What a sleepy-headed cove you are, Griffiths!" said Mr. Effingham with great contempt. "What do you tell me this for, if this is to be the end?" "But this ain't to be the end, D'Ossay, dear! Mr. Trapman's come back by this time, I dessay, and we'll go and look him up to-morrow and see whether he can tell us anything of any real good about this gal. He's a first-rate hand is Trapman, as knowin' as a ferret; and it won't do to let him know what our game is, else he might go in and spoil it and work it for himself. So just you hold your tongue, if we see him, D'Ossay, and leave me to manage the palaver with him." Mr. Effingham gave an ungracious assent to his companion's suggestion, and, practical always, asked him to name a time for this meeting on the next day. Mr. Griffiths suggested twelve o'clock as convenient for a glass of ale and a biscuit, and for finding Mr. Trapman at home. So the appointment was made for that hour; and after a little chat on subjects irrelevant to the theme of this story, the worthy pair parted.