[_To himself._] Great Heavens! If by any awful freak of fate this poor creature is a victim of Renshaw’s--and _she_ at this moment standing beside him----! What a fool I am to think of no man but Renshaw! JANET PREECE. Don’t ask me to describe him in words, sir,--I can’t, I can’t. But I’ve taught myself to draw his face faithfully. I’m not boasting--I can’t draw anything else because I see nothing else. Give me some paper I can sketch upon, and a pencil. [_HUGH hands her paper and pencil, and watches while she sketches._] HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] If the face she sketches should bear any resemblance to his, what could I do, what could I do? JANET PREECE. [_To herself._] That’s with his mocking look as I last saw him. He is always mocking me now. HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] I could do nothing--it’s too late--nothing. Shall I look now? No. What a coward I am! Yes. [_He looks over JANET’S shoulder._] Renshaw! [_He struggles against his agitation._] The wife! I must think of the wife. [_To JANET._] My poor child, the most accurate portrait in the world is poor material towards hunting for a man in this labyrinth of London. JANET PREECE. Oh, but take it. His face must be familiar to hundreds of men and women in London. I know that he belongs to some of your great clubs and goes to the race-meetings in grand style--he has told me so. And take these. These papers tell you all about me and give an address where you can write to me when you’ve traced him. HUGH MURRAY. I--I can’t undertake this search. It’s useless--it’s useless. JANET PREECE. No, no--don’t refuse to help me! Your face says you are clever--it’s easy work for you. He isn’t in hiding; he is flaunting about in broad sunlight in your fine parks, maybe with another poor simple girl on his arm. Find him for me! He isn’t a murderer stealing along in the shadow of walls at night-time--he is only a betrayer of women, and men don’t hide for that! HUGH MURRAY. I--I’ll look through this bundle of papers. You shall hear from me to-morrow. [_He is showing JANET to the door when WILFRID enters._] WILFRID BRUDENELL. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve found your way here! How strange that we should meet again! JANET PREECE. Yes. Thank you, thank you for your kindness. Good-bye! [_She goes hurriedly from the room._] WILFRID BRUDENELL. There now! After my hurrying off on the chance of seeing her, and being nearly run down in Holborn--only “thank you” and “good-bye!” HUGH MURRAY. Have they left the Registrar’s? WILFRID BRUDENELL. He was congratulating them when I stole away. HUGH MURRAY. [_To himself._] If the poor girl should come face to face with Renshaw this morning! [_HUGH looks out of the window._] WILFRID BRUDENELL. Come now, Mr. Murray, isn’t she sweet? HUGH MURRAY. Yes, yes. [_This to himself._] She is crossing the Inn. WILFRID BRUDENELL. And don’t you thank me for sending you such a pretty client? HUGH MURRAY. [_Turning away from the window._] She’s gone.