A sudden terrific gust of wind shook the heavy windows, and a sheet of rain splashed against the panes like a great wave, distracting, for the moment, every one's attention. A storm on the Riviera is always heavy and blustering. "I have just come in," Paulton said. "In all my life I don't recollect such an awful storm as this, except once in the Jura, when I was out boar-shooting. How fortunate it didn't start while the pigeon-shooting was on to-day." He turned to me suddenly. "By the way, Ashton," he said familiarly, "we have a mutual friend, I think." "Indeed?" I answered drily. "Who is that?" "Sir Charles Thorold's daughter, Miss Vera." I was astonished at this effrontery--so astounded that my surprise outweighed my feeling of indignation at the tone of familiarity in which he spoke of Vera. He might have been referring to some barmaid we both knew. I think he detected my annoyance, but he said nothing. After a pause I replied, keeping myself in check-- "Is Miss Thorold a friend of yours?" "A friend of mine? Rather. I should say so!" He glanced across at Henderson, and they both smiled significantly. This was intolerable. "I do know Miss Thorold," I remarked, emphasising the "Miss Thorold," "but I don't remember that she has ever mentioned your name to me." "No, probably she wouldn't mention it. Vera is discreet, if she is nothing else." The impertinence of this reply was so obvious, so pointed, that I knew it must have been intentional. "Really, I don't follow you," I said icily. "What, pray, has Miss Thorold to say to you, and what have you to say to her?" "Oh, a very great deal, I can assure you." "Indeed? How intensely interesting!" "It is, very. Her flight from Houghton that night must have astonished you." I could bear the fellow's company no longer. Emptying my tumbler, I rose with deliberation, and, excusing myself with frigid politeness, strode out of the fumoir. In the vestibule I met the good-looking young Englishman. He had left the room soon after Paulton had entered. Now he came up and spoke to me. "I hope you'll forgive my addressing you," he said in well-bred accents, raising his hat, "but I heard your name mentioned when Paulton introduced Henderson to you. May I ask if you are _the_ Mr. Richard Ashton?" "It depends what you mean by `the' Richard Ashton," I answered. This young man attracted me; he had done so from the first. "Do you happen to live in King Street, St. James's?" he inquired abruptly. "Yes, I do." "Then you're the man I have for weeks past been wanting to meet. I believe you know Miss Thorold--Miss Vera Thorold." "I do." "She wants particularly to see you." "How do you know that?" "Because she told me, or rather a friend of hers--to whom I am engaged to be married--did. They are together at the _Alexandra Hotel_, in Mentone. My friend is staying there with an aunt of mine."