Penelope's face darkened as she listened. Was Labar trying some subtle underhand game of bluff? If he had thus lied about her to Hughes, might he not equally have lied to her when he declared that Larry Hughes was a criminal? What could he hope to gain by it? Her hands opened and closed nervously as she considered. Had she misjudged Hughes merely on the strength of this man's word whom she had only met yesterday? "That is a string of lies," she said scornfully. "Not altogether, I think," he said thoughtfully, his dark piercing eyes fixed unwaveringly on her, as though he would read her thoughts. "There is truth in it somewhere. How much? How much has Adèle told you?" He thrust his face even closer towards her. "I know there is a reason for your actions. I am your friend and hers. I am taking a heavy risk to help you whether you appreciate it or not. We are all in the same boat--all suspect. Let us clear the air." His voice was low and persuasive, and his hand sought and found hers. She hastily tore hers away from his touch. For once Larry Hughes had overplayed his part. Penelope had got a clue to things that had been dark to her, and some at least of her doubts of the man who sat by her side were resolved. "Adèle--and you," she murmured, softly, more to herself than to the man. "I begin to understand." "Well, tell me," he said. "You," she said holding away from him as from some abhorrent thing, "you are the blackmailer. You are the man she has been buying silence from. You are the man who wrecked her life, who has driven her to forgery, and worse. I believe you are the most contemptible creature on God's earth." Not a muscle of the man's face moved as he listened. "Like you, I begin to see," he declared, his tone smooth as before. "Well, it doesn't matter a whole lot. Adèle has been putting her foot in it, possibly getting out of her depth at the races, and she has hinted to you that she is being blackmailed. Anyhow, she has done some foolish things, and you are standing between her and trouble. That's what it amounts to. No, Miss Noelson, I am not a blackmailer. There was something between Adèle and me many years ago, before her marriage, and possibly a crook has got some foolish letters of ours."