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"When will Mr. Morlake come for trial?" she asked, dismissing the existence of Lydia Hamon.

"He'll come up this morning for the preliminary hearing, and then I suppose he'll be remanded, and next week he'll be committed for trial. You're interested in him, aren't you? Well, it is only natural that you should be. These rascals have a certain romantic interest, even for the more law-abiding."

"Not every rascal," she answered instantly. "I know some who are the most uninteresting creatures it is possible to meet!"

She had recovered her poise, and Lord Creith, who knew his daughter remarkably well, detected what Mr. Hamon had failed to notice—a certain gentle malignity in her voice, and writhed at the memory of past encounters with his daughter that had left him a little limp.

"Has he any friends? I mean, is there anybody who would bail him?"

"No bail would be allowed," answered Hamon promptly. "Having got the fellow, it is hardly likely that the police are going to risk his bolting, especially as he put up a tough fight before he was captured."