Sutherland drew from his breast pocket, and handed across the table, copies of the ‘Whirligig’ and the ‘Plain Speaker,’ with the passages concerning Madeline marked in pencil. Gavrolles glanced at them, and smiled curiously--then tossed them back across the table. ‘You understand those references?’ ‘Completely,’ answered Gavrolles, with a mock bow. He was rapidly regaining his composure, and making ready to strike his strongest blow. ‘Yet you have the assurance to tell me that you are unacquainted with the lady whose name I have mentioned?’ Gavrolles bowed again. ‘Is she not the same with whom I saw you in company over there in France?’ ‘And if she is?’ ‘If she is, you are a liar on your own showing. You professed not to know her.’ ‘I professed nothing of the kind. I said I did not know _Mrs. Forster_.’ ‘She is the same person.’ ‘Pardon me, that is impossible. She may be living under that gentleman’s roof, she may even be bearing his name--but she is not _his wife!_’ It was now Sutherland’s turn to look astonished. Something in the man’s supercilious smile, in his growing audacity and self-possession, disconcerted him. ‘What!--do you actually insinuate----’ ‘Nothing whatever, monsieur. I merely state a fact. But before we continue the conversation, may I ask you a question? Has the lady herself sent you here?’ ‘No,’ returned Sutherland, with a heightened colour; ‘I came on my own responsibility.’ ‘Oh!--a self-constituted champion, I presume?’ ‘If you put it in that way, yes.’ ‘You are a friend of hers, of course?’ ‘I am so far her friend that I will not see her victimised by a scoundrel.’ ‘Referring to me, monsieur?’ asked Gavrolles, with venomous politeness. Gavrolles, now completely master of himself, leant over the table and looked straight into Sutherland’s eyes. ‘You are very impetuous, monsieur, and not too choice in your use of--what you call--Beelingsgate; but I should wish very much to give you a little piece of advice. Before you proceed any further in this affair I should recommend you to consult the lady herself.’ ‘Why?’ ‘It would be better--for the lady.’ There was no mistaking the threatening significance of the Frenchman’s tone; but, as he spoke, he took a cigarette from a box upon the table, lit it, and looked keenly through the smoke at Sutherland. Seeing that he did not immediately reply, but seemed dubious and perplexed, Gavrolles airily continued-- ‘I am content, you see, to take the lady’s opinion on the subject. If she sends you here as her accredited agent and defender, I will speak to you, as one gentleman to another. Even then, look you, I should be condescending, amiable. It is not every man who would permit a complete stranger to dictate to him on a matter concerning only himself and madame his wife.’ ‘What do you mean?’ cried Sutherland, now thoroughly startled. ‘You cannot mean that----’