"Surely if Miss Thorold wished to meet me she could have written to me, or telegraphed," I said rather frigidly. "No. I think I ought to tell you that the man who introduced himself to you some minutes ago--the man Dago Paulton--has entire control over her--she goes in fear of him! She did not dare write to you, or even send you a wire. She knew that if she did he would find out. The lady to whom I am engaged told me this some days ago, and told me a great deal about you that had been told to her by Miss Thorold." "Do you mind telling me your name?" I said, looking at him squarely. "Faulkner--Frank Faulkner. Paulton is a man of whom you ought to be very careful. He is really a scoundrel, that I don't mind telling you. I have just been told by a man who really knows, that he has forced Miss Thorold to take an active interest in a rascally scheme of some kind that he and Henderson have devised. I am told by my lady friend--her name is Gladys Deroxe--that Miss Thorold tried her utmost to have nothing to do with it, but Paulton threatened to reveal something he knows concerning her father, so in the end she consented. Paulton has no longer a card for the Rooms; he was shut out last year for some reason, and he has lately been compelling Miss Thorold to go and play there in his place. Her luck at trente-et-quarante has been phenomenal, but all the money she has won he has of course at once taken from her, she is his factotum. I am very glad for her sake that you have come out. I suppose it was by accident you came? You didn't expect to find her here--eh?" "On the contrary," I said, "I chanced to hear only last Sunday that Miss Thorold was staying on the Riviera--so I decided to come over at once," I said. "She knows that you are here, you know." "She knows? Why, who on earth can have told her?" "I have just been telephoning to Miss Deroxe over at the _Bristol_ at Beaulieu. Miss Thorold is there with her. I told them that a man named Ashton was here, and I described your appearance. Miss Thorold said at once it must be you. Unfortunately she leaves to-night for Paris, and Miss Deroxe goes with her." "But why is she going to Paris?" I exclaimed eagerly. "Who? Miss Thorold? She's acting on Paulton's orders. Her visit has some mysterious bearing upon the scheme I have just spoken about." The door of the fumoir opened at that moment, and Paulton and Henderson came out into the vestibule. At once they must have seen Faulkner and myself conversing, and for an instant a look of anger flashed into Paulton's eyes. The expression subsided quickly, and he and Henderson approached smiling calmly.