“I hope you did not think the thing too boorish to be pardoned.  On the face of it it was rude to you—­and the lady also.”

“The circumstance—­the coincidence—­was so unusual that I did not stop to think of manners.”

“The coincidence—­what coincidence?” said Telford, watching intently.

But Hagar had himself well in hand.  He showed nothing of his suspicions.  “That you should be there listening, and that the song should be one which no two people, meeting casually, were likely to know.”

“We did not meet,” said Telford dryly.

They watched the crowd for a minute.  Presently he added, “May I ask the name of the lady who was singing?”

There was a slight pause, then, “Certainly—­Mrs. Fairfax Detlor.”

Though Telford did not stir a muscle the bronze of his face went grayish, and he looked straight before him without speaking.  At last he said in a clear, steady voice, “I knew her once, I think.”

“I guessed so.”

“Indeed?  May I ask if Mrs. Detlor recognized my voice?”

“That I do not know, but the chances are she did not; if you failed to recognize hers.”

There was an almost malicious desire on Hagar’s part to play upon this man—­this scoundrel, as he believed him to be—­and make him wince still more.  A score of things to say or do flashed through his mind, but he gave them up instantly, remembering that it was his duty to consider Mrs. Detlor before all.  But he did say, “If you were old friends, you will wish to meet her, of course.”

“Yes.  I have not seen her in many years.  Where is she staying?”

“At the Tempe hotel.  I do not know whether you intend to call, but I would suggest your not doing so to-day—­that is, if you wish to see her and not merely leave your card—­because she has an engagement this morning, and this afternoon she is going on an excursion.”

“Thank you for the generous information.”  There was cool irony in the tone.  “You are tolerably well posted as to Mrs. Detlor’s movements.”

“Oh, yes,” was the equally cool reply.  “In this case I happen to know, because Mrs. Detlor sits for a picture at my studio this morning, and I am one of the party for the excursion.”

“Just so.  Then will you please say nothing to Mrs. Detlor about having met me?  I should prefer surprising her.”

“I’m afraid I can make no promise.  The reason is not sufficient.  Surprises, as you remarked about Punch and Judy, are amusing, but they may also be tragical.”

Telford flashed a dark, inquiring look at his companion, and then said:  “Excuse me, I did not say that, though it was said.  However, it is no matter.  We meet at dinner, I I suppose, this evening.  Till then!”

He raised his hat with a slight sweeping motion—­a little mocking excess in the courtesy—­and walked away.

As he went Hagar said after him between his teeth, “By Heaven, you are that man!”