“Your pleading was very wonderful, Mr. Ledsam,” she said, a very subtle note of mockery faintly apparent in her tone. “We poor mortals find it difficult to understand that with you all that show of passionate earnestness is merely--what did you call it?--a chapter in your day's work? It is a great gift to be able to argue from the brain and plead as though from the heart.” “We will not detain Mr. Ledsam,” Oliver Hilditch interposed, a little hastily. “He perhaps does not care to be addressed in public by a client who still carries with him the atmosphere of the prison. My wife and I wondered, Mr. Ledsam, whether you would be good enough to dine with us one night. I think I could interest you by telling you more about my case than you know at present, and it would give us a further opportunity, and a more seemly one, for expressing our gratitude.” Francis had recovered himself by this time. He was after all a man of parts, and though he still had the feeling that he had been through one of the most momentous days of his life, his savoir faire was making its inevitable reappearance. He knew very well that the idea of that dinner would be horrible to him. He also knew that he would willingly cancel every engagement he had rather than miss it. “You are very kind,” he murmured. “Are we fortunate enough to find you disengaged,” Hilditch suggested, “to-morrow evening?” “I am quite free,” was the ready response. “That suits you, Margaret?” Hilditch asked, turning courteously to his wife. For a single moment her eyes were fixed upon those of her prospective guest. He read their message which pleaded for his refusal, and he denied it. “To-morrow evening will suit me as well as any other,” she acquiesced, after a brief pause. “At eight o'clock, then--number 10 b, Hill Street,” Hilditch concluded. Francis bowed and turned away with a murmured word of polite assent. Outside, he found Wilmore deep in the discussion of the merits of various old brandies with an interested maitre d'hotel. “Any choice, Francis?” his host enquired. “None whatever,” was the prompt reply, “only, for God's sake, give me a double one quickly!”