“What you say of me is wholly untrue,” she said in a low, breathless voice. “My name----” Suddenly a flood of blushes suffused her pale face. How could she tell him what her name was? How introduce to the already indignant and reproachful visitor the knowledge that she was the wife of the nephew whom he no doubt believed to be a forger and a swindler? After a short pause she went on, while he waited quietly for her without interruption: “I have nev----” She stopped again. “Do you mean to say you have never been to Paris?” asked the viscount, less harshly, but still with evident incredulity. Audrey raised her head in desperation. “No. I did not mean that. I have been in Paris. I was there last winter.” Her voice faltered, for she remembered the joy of that merry time. She and Gerard had spent part of their honeymoon there. After another pause she went on:-- “But I have never kept a gaming-house, I do not keep one now. I have never heard of your friend Grey. I have never had a hand in anybody’s death. Your accusation is absurd. As for your sons, I do not want them here. They were brought here, without any invitation from me, by one of my acquaintances. They shall never come here again. And my name is not Madame Rocada. That is merely a trade name, and is not even of my own choosing.” Lord Clanfield looked at her keenly. He was interested, in spite of himself, in this woman, whose manners and appearance were, he felt sure, quite different from those of the ordinary adventuress he had believed her to be. He hesitated, and then said, looking at her with a scrutinising gaze as he spoke:-- “And may I ask what your name really is?” If there had been even a little kindliness, a little unbending, in his tone and manner, Audrey might perhaps have been tempted to tell him the whole truth as to her identity, and even to plead with him on behalf of that nephew whom she was sure he cruelly misjudged. But Lord Clanfield, though he was perplexed, was not outwardly softened. If anything, indeed, he was inclined to be indignant that the keeper of a gaming-house, as he believed her to be, should be so amply endowed by nature, so well-bred in manner, as to increase the danger of her acquaintance for susceptible young men. So Audrey merely said:-- “My name is an honourable one, and I have done nothing to disgrace it.” And as she spoke the thought of poor Gerard, going through the terrible humiliation and hardship of penal servitude, with his heart breaking on her account, suddenly overwhelmed her, and she turned abruptly, and walked away down the long room, afraid of an outburst of tears. If she had given way to this impulse, if she had broken down into the open and uncontrollable grief which possessed her, it is possible that Lord Clanfield’s pity might have been excited, and that a full confession on her part might have followed.