He was fiercely, furiously indignant with her--vanished, it appeared, all his affection, the sentiment of years. "I've got to defend Rachel from her, no knowin' _whom_ she's been tellin'." Roddy still found it impossible to admit more than one idea at a time, and the idea now was that "he must stop the old lady dead." His brain came round now to Breton, and halted there. What kind of fellow, after all, was he? What, after all, did Roddy know about him that he could so easily condemn him? To-night, fresh from the battle with the Creature, Roddy's view of the world was painted with new colours. The man had been condemned for things that his father had done, and one recognized, here in London, how difficult it was for a fellow to climb up once he had been pushed down. Was the man in love with Rachel? Well, Roddy did not know that he could blame him for that? ... difficult enough, surely, for anyone not to be. But _was_ he? What, after all, was he like? Then swiftly the answer came to him. See the man.... Talk to him ... know him. He stared at the idea, felt already new energy in his bones and a surging victory over the lethargy of this awful evening at the suggestion of some definite action. But see him, yes, and see him here and see him soon. His impatience leapt now hotly upon him; he pulled Jacob's ears. "That's the ticket, old boy, ain't it? See what kind of a ruffian this is! My word, but wouldn't the old lady hate it if she knew?" But, and at this the room flared with the thrill of it, why not have her here to meet him? Confront her with him. He was cool now. Here was matter that needed careful handling. Still as vigorous now as in his most active days was his impatience. Was something in the way, cobwebs, barriers, obstacles of any sort? Brush them aside, beat them down! Here was a plan. Here, too, most happily at hand, was the Duchess's punishment. All these years had the old lady been refusing to set eyes upon her grandson, therefore, how dramatic would it be were she confronted with him unexpectedly. Out of the heart of that meeting would come most assuredly the truth about Rachel. There, in a flash, solid, substantial, beautifully compact, magnificently splendid his plan lay before him. He would have them there. Rachel, the Duchess, this Breton, all of them there before him. They should come ignorant, unprepared, Breton first, then Rachel, then the Duchess. Having them there he would quite simply say that someone had been pouring into his ears a story of friendship to which he might take objection. He would then, very quietly.... But here he paused. Oh! he knew what he would do. He smiled at the thought of the success of his plan. When he had made his little speech to them all there would never again be any danger of scandal. The old lady would never again have any single word to say.