She stood silent, evidently waiting for his communication.

"It's not of paramount importance," he said. "But I think you may as well
know it for your present edification and future guidance. Madam, I am
that wicked, wanton, wily fox, that whipper-snapper, that unmitigated
bounder--Nap Errol!"

He made the announcement with supreme complacence. It was evident that he
felt not the faintest anxiety as to how she would receive it. There was
even a certain careless hauteur about him as though the qualities he
thus frankly enumerated were to him a source of pride.

She heard him with no sign of astonishment. "I knew it," she said
quietly. "I have known you by sight for some time."

"And you were not afraid to speak to such a dangerous scoundrel?" he
said.

"You don't strike me as being very formidable," she answered. "Moreover,
if you remember, it was you who spoke first."

"To be sure," he said. "It was all of a piece with my habitual confounded
audacity. Shall I tell you something more? I wonder whether I dare."

"Wait!" she said imperatively. "It is my turn to tell you something,
though it is more than possible that you know it already. Mr. Errol, I
am--Lady Carfax!"

He bowed low. "I did know," he said, in a tone from which all hint of