He laughed, a harsh, cruel laugh which grated upon her ear. "We know too much of one another, my dear Editha, not to trust each other." "My whole future depends on you. I am penniless. If you marry Sue...." "I can provide for you," he interrupted roughly. "What can I do now? My penury is worse than yours. So, my dear, if you have a plan to propound for the furtherance of my schemes, I pray you do not let your fear of the future prevent you from lending me a helping hand." "A thought crossed my mind," she said eagerly, "the thought of something which would effectually force Richard Lambert to quit this neighborhood for ever." "What were that?" "Disgrace." "Disgrace?" he exclaimed. "Aye! you are right. Something mean ... paltry ... despicable ... something that would make her gracious ladyship turn away from him in disgust ... and would force him to go away from here ... for ever." He looked at her closely, scrutinizing her face, trying to read her thoughts. "A thought crossed your mind," he demanded peremptorily. "What is it?" "The house in London," she murmured. "You are not afraid?" "Oh!" she said with a careless shrug of the shoulders. "The Protector's spies are keen," he urged, eager to test her courage, her desire to help him. "They'll scarce remember me after two years." "Hm! Their memory is keen ... and the new laws doubly severe." "We'll be cautious." "How can you let your usual clients know? They are dispersed." "Oh, no! My Lord Walterton is as keen as ever and Sir James Overbury would brave the devil for a night at hazard. A message to them and we'll have a crowd every night." "'Tis well thought on, Editha," he said approvingly. "But we must not delay. Will you go to London to-morrow?" "An you approve." "Aye! you can take the Dover coach and be in town by nightfall. Then write your letters to my Lord Walterton and Sir James Overbury. Get a serving wench from Alverstone's in the Strand, and ask the gentlemen to bring their own men, for the sake of greater safety. They'll not refuse." "Refuse?" she said with a light laugh, "oh, no!" "To-day being Tuesday, you should have your first evening entertainment on Friday. Everything could be ready by then." "Oh, yes!" "Very well then, on Friday, I, too, will arrive in London, my dear Editha, escorted by my secretary, Master Richard Lambert, and together we will call and pay our respects at your charming house in Bath Street." "I will do my share. You must do yours, Marmaduke. Endicott will help you: he is keen and clever. And if Lambert but takes a card in his hand ..." "Nay! he will take the cards, mine oath on that! Do you but arrange it all with Endicott." "And, Marmaduke, I entreat you," she urged now with sudden earnestness, "I entreat you to beware of my Lord Protector's spies. Think of the consequences for me!"