Peters, though still not wholly equal to the
intellectual pressure of the conversation, began to see a faint shimmer
of light behind the clouds. In a nebulous kind of way he began to
understand that the girl had come to consult the firm about a
breach-of-promise action. Some unknown man at Ealing West had been
trifling with her heart--hardened lawyer's clerk as he was, that poignant
cry "I'm not engaged!" had touched Mr. Peters--and she wished to start
proceedings. Mr. Peters felt almost in his depth again. He put the
revolver in his pocket, and drew out a note-book.
"I should be glad to hear the facts," he said with professional
courtesy. "In the absence of the Guv'nor...."
"I have told you the facts!"
"This man at Ealing West," said Mr. Peters, moistening the point of his
pencil, "he wrote you letters proposing marriage?"
"No, no, no!"
"At any rate," said Mr. Peters, disappointed but hopeful, "he made love
to you before witnesses?"
"Never! Never! There is no man at Ealing West! There never was a man at
Ealing West!"
It was at this point that Jno.
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