'No, it won't be the same; it will be better. Could I creep between your arms if I knew that your hands were red with that man's blood? If you don't mind, as I locked the door, I'll open it. Please keep your hands off him as he comes out--for my sake, dear.' She gave him a glance which possibly constrained him to obedience. She was famous in the theatre for the skill with which she used her eyes. Turning the key, throwing the bedroom door wide open, she stood before it with a little gesture of invitation. 'Pray, gentlemen, come out.' And they came out, the hang-dog three, for, though each endeavoured to bear himself with an air of unconcern, in no case did the endeavour quite succeed. As regards Mr Thomas Cox, the failure was complete. He looked like nothing so much as the well-whipped cur which only asks to be allowed to take itself away with its tail between its legs. The Flyman, who was probably more habituated to positions of the kind, succeeded a trifle better. He looked defiance, as if he were prepared to match himself, at less than a moment's notice, against whoever came. Mr Horace Burton it was, however, who might claim to face the situation with the most imperturbable front. He looked about him, not jauntily so much as calmly, with his unceasing smile. 'More visitors, Miss Bewicke, I perceive. Ah! Guy, how are you? You're looking dicky. Louise, my dearest girl!' Of its kind, his impudence was glorious. Mr Dumville strode up to him, as if forgetful of the lady's prohibition. 'By gad! I'd like to kill you!' Mr Burton, glancing up at the speaker, did not turn a hair. 'I'm afraid I haven't the honour. Miss Bewicke, may I ask you to introduce me to the gentleman?' 'With pleasure. Mr Horace Burton, this is Mr Dumville. It is only at my urgent request that he refrains from breaking every bone in your body, as he easily could. But you know, and I know, that for you there's such a very bad time coming that I feel it's quite safe to leave you to the tender mercies of those to whom mercy is unknown. Turn out your pockets!' 'Charmed! I quite appreciate the motive which actuates your request, Miss Bewicke. Nothing could be more natural. But I give you my word of honour that neither of us has anything which belongs to you.' Notwithstanding, Mr Burton turned his pockets inside out, smiling all the time. His companions followed suit, though scarcely with so much grace. So far as could be seen, neither of them was in possession of anything to which Miss Bewicke could lay claim, as she herself admitted. 'I really do believe you, Mr Burton, when you say that you--none of you--have property of mine. It sounds odd, and you may wonder why, but I do. Good-night.' 'Good-night I am indebted to you, Miss Bewicke, for a pleasant evening's entertainment.' 'Don't mention it. When the time comes to balance your accounts, you'll find the sum-total of your indebtedness altogether beyond your capacity to meet. Go.'