“A stand-between!  I do not know what you mean.”

“Quite true, madame.  It is hard for you, living so comfortably, to understand how difficult it is for some people to stand between those they love and poverty.  I fear I have not done very well along that line in the past, though I am improving now.”

“But what has all this to do with my daughter, of whom you speak?” Mrs. Hampton somewhat impatiently asked.  “What right have you even to suggest that I have a daughter.”

“Can you deny it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Madame!  I am surprised at you.”

“You need not be at all surprised, sir.  I had a daughter once, but she has been dead for many years.”

“Ah, madame, dead to you, perhaps, but not to others.  Have you forgotten that?”

For a few seconds Mrs. Hampton tried to maintain her composure.  But the strain was too much upon her, so sinking down upon the steps, she buried her face in her hands.  Grimsby was by no means affected by the woman’s distress.  He rather enjoyed it.  He knew now that she was in his power.  Drawing forth a package of cigarettes, he selected one, lighted it, and smoked in silent contentment.  He had often seen his wife in just such a situation, so it was nothing new to him.

At length Mrs. Hampton lifted her head and looked at Grimsby.  There were tears in her eyes, and her face was drawn and white.  The comfortable, self-satisfied man annoyed her, and a wave of indignation swept upon her.

“Why have you come here to-day to torment me?” she asked.

“Torment you!  In what way?”

“By your words of insinuation.”

“Are they not true?”

“Suppose I deny them?”

“It would be no use, madame.  I have all the necessary proof.”

“Of what?”

“Don’t you know?  Do you wish me to tell what happened in a private hospital, twenty years ago, and how you exchanged——­”

“Stop, stop!  For God’s sake, don’t say any more!”

“You acknowledge it all, then?”

“How can I deny it?  But who told you?”

“Madame,” and Grimsby flicked the ashes from his cigarette as he spoke, “when a man has a wife such as mine, sooner or later he learns many interesting things.”

“Your wife!  What does she know?”

“Evidently too much for your peace of mind.”

“But how does she know?”

“Simply because she happened to be Hettie Rawlins before she became Mrs. Grimsby.”

“Hettie Rawlins,” Mrs. Hampton repeated.  “That name sounds familiar.  Where have I heard it before?”

“In that private hospital, madame.  She was the girl who exchanged the babies.  Surely you have not forgotten her.”

“Oh, now I do remember.  And she is your wife?”

“She is, unfortunate for her.”

“This is all new to me.”

“Strange that you should forget her, isn’t it?”