She told him in short words; she was reluctant to make a confidant of the man who had ravished her lips; she was dimly conscious that he may have had a remote excuse for his behaviour.  When she had done, he said: 

“Mrs Hamilton is one of the worst women in London.  She’d have been ‘run in’ long ago if she weren’t so rich and if her clients weren’t so influential.”

Mavis looked at him wide-eyed.

“That chap at dinner, didn’t, you know he was Lord Kegworth?  If you don’t, you must have heard of the rotten life he’s led.”

“But—­” stammered Mavis.

“Have you seen any photographs since you’ve been here?”

“Just now—­these.”

“She’s their agent, go between.  Here!  What am I telling you?  You can thank your stars you’ve met me.”

Mavis’s frightened eyes looked into his.

“I’m going to get you out of it.”

“You?”

“There’s not a moment to lose.  Get on your things and clear out.”

“But Mrs Hamilton—­”

“She’s busy for a moment.  Slip on something over your dress and join me outside the drawing-room.  If anyone interferes with you, shout.”

“But—­”

“Do as I tell you.  Hang it!  I must do something to try and make up for my blackguard behaviour.”

Mavis went from the room, her heart beating with fear of discovery.  For the time being, she had forgotten the insult offered her by the man she had left:  her one thought was to put as great a space as possible between this accursed house and herself in the least imaginable time.  She scarcely knew what she did.  She tore off the pearls, the head circlet with its shining emerald, bracelets and other costly gee-gaws, and threw them on the table; she was glad to be rid of them; their touch meant defilement.  She kicked off the grey slippers, tore off the silk stockings, and substituted for these her worn, down-at-heel shoes and stockings.  There was no time to change her frock, so she pulled the cloak over her evening clothes; she meant to return these latter to their owner the first thing in the morning.  She turned her back on the room, that such a short while back she had looked upon as her own, ran down the stairs and joined the man, who was impatiently waiting for her on the landing.  Without exchanging a word, they descended to the ground floor.  The front door was in sight and Mavis’s heart was beating high with hope, when Mrs Hamilton, who looked tired and heated, stood in the passage.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Out for the evening,” replied Williams.

“What time shall I expect you back?” she asked of Mavis.

“I’m not coming back,” replied Mavis.  “I wish I’d never come.”

“Then—?”

“Yes,” interrupted Williams, anticipating Mrs Hamilton’s question.

“You believe and trust a notorious seducer like this man?” asked Mrs Hamilton of Mavis.