I could see that the other visitors at the hotel were whispering, and more especially had I incurred the displeasure of a Mrs. Glenbury, an elderly lady of distinctly out-of-date views, who with pathetic effort tried to ape youth. Late in the evening after our return from Brighton, I took a long stroll alone along the lower promenade, close to the beach, which at night is very ill-lit, being below the level of the well-illuminated roadway. I suppose I had walked for quite a couple of miles when, on my return, I discerned in front of me two figures, a man and a woman. A ray of light from the roadway above shone on them as they passed, and I noticed that while the woman wore an ordinary dark cloth coat, the man was in tweeds and a golf cap. An altercation had arisen between them. "All right," he cried. "You won't live here very much longer--I'll see to that! You've tried to do me down, and very nearly succeeded. And now you refuse to give me even a fiver!" Those words aroused my curiosity. I held back; for my feet fell noiselessly because of my rubber heels. I strained my ears to catch their further conversation. "I've never refused you, Arthur!" replied the woman's voice. I held my breath. The voice was Lady Lydbrook's. I could recognize it anywhere! I watched. The young man's attitude was certainly threatening. "I don't intend now that you'll get off lightly. You'll have to pay me not a fiver but fifty pounds to-night. So go back to the hotel and bring me out a cheque. I'll wait at the Wish Tower. But mind it isn't a dud one. If it is, then, by gad! I'll tell them right away. And won't the fur fly then, eh?" He spoke in a refined voice, though his appearance was that of a loafer. His companion was evidently in fear. She tried to argue, to cajole, and to appear defiant, but all was useless. He only laughed triumphantly at her as they walked along the deserted promenade in the direction of the hotel. Suddenly they halted. I held back at once. They conversed in lower tones--intense words that I could not catch. But it seemed to me that the frail little woman who was so often my companion was cowed and terrified. Why? What did she fear? She left him, while he drew back into the shadow. I waited also in the shadow for nearly ten minutes, then I passed on, ascended some steps and reentered the hotel. In the lounge I sank into a seat in a hidden corner and lit a cigarette. Presently I heard the swish of a woman's skirt behind me, and rising, peered out. It was Lady Lydbrook on her way out. She was carrying the cheque to the mysterious stranger! Alone in my room that night I threw myself into a chair and pondered deeply. I had learned that Lady Lydbrook was under the influence of that ill-dressed man who spoke so well, and whom I at first took to be an undergraduate or perhaps a hospital student.