"Be good enough to leave us for a minute, Miss Neilson; we shan't be longer," said Lowndes pointedly. "Now," he added, "kindly take a seat, Ringrose." But Harry came and stood at the other side of the magnificent desk. "I want to ask you two or three questions, Mr. Lowndes," said he quietly. "About the Company, eh?" "No, not about the Company, Mr. Lowndes." "Then this is neither the time nor place, and it will have to be a very short minute. But blaze away." "What is there between you and that man Scrafton?" asked Harry, and for the life of him he could steady his voice no longer. His very lip was trembling now. "Which man Scrafton?" asked Lowndes, beginning to smile. "You know as well as I do!" Harry almost shouted. "The other master in the school at Teddington--the man whose existence you pretended not to know of when I met you that afternoon on Ham Common. I ask you what there is between you. I ask you why you pretended there was nothing that Saturday afternoon--that Monday morning when you came to intercept him and pretended you had come to see me. I ask you what there was between that ruffian and--my father!" His voice was almost breaking in his passion and his agony, but he was no longer nervous and self-conscious. That agony of doubt and of suspicion--that passionate determination to know the truth--had already floated him beyond the shoals of self. Lowndes waved a soothing hand, and his tone altered instantly. It was as though he realised that he was dealing with a dangerous fellow. "Steady, Ringrose, steady!" said he. "You must answer me one question if you want answers to all those." And there was a touch of the old kindness in his tone, a strange and disconcerting touch, for it sounded genuine. "As many as you like--_I_ have nothing to hide," cried Harry. And he had the satisfaction of making Lowndes wince. "What makes you think I am acquainted with the man you mention?" "What makes me think it?" echoed Harry, with a hard laugh. "Why, I've seen you together!" "When?" cried Lowndes. "The very day I saw you last. I came over to tell you something I'd heard the fellow say. I wanted to consult you of all men! And there were the two of you walking up and down your garden path." "Was it the evening?" "Yes, it was, and you walked up and down by the hour--like conspirators--like confederates!" Lowndes had started up and was leaning across his desk. His hands gripped the edge of it. His face was ghastly. "Spy!" he hissed. "You listened to what we were saying." "I didn't," retorted Harry. "You knew one gentleman even then." There were several sorts of folly in this speech: no sooner was it uttered than Harry saw one. Had he been less ready to deny the eavesdropping he might have learnt something now. By pretending to know much he might have learnt all. He had lost a chance.