Steel?"

"Never in my life, my dear lady."

"Then you knew something about me or mine!"

"What one read in the newspapers--neither more nor less--upon my most
solemn word--if that will satisfy you."

And it did; for if there had been palpable insincerity in his previous
protestations, there was sincerity of a still more obvious order in Mr.
Steel's downright assurances on these two points. He had never ever
seen her before. He knew nothing whatever about her up to the period of
notoriety; he had no special and no previous knowledge of his own. It
might not be true, of course; but there was that in the deep-set eyes
which convinced Rachel once and for all. There was a sudden light in
them, a light as candid as that which happened to be shining in her own,
but a not too kindly one, rather a glint of genuine resentment. It was
his smooth protestations that Rachel distrusted and disliked. If she
could ruffle him, she might get at the real man; and with her questions
she appeared to have done so already.

"I am more than satisfied, in one way," replied Rachel, "and less in
another. I rather wish you had known something about me; it would have
made it more natural for you to come to my assistance. But never mind.
What were these immediate measures?"

"I took these rooms; I had spoken of taking them earlier in the week."

"For me?"