When Mrs Ogilvy came into the room in which the two young men awaited her for the only meal they shared, the early dinner, she was startled to see a person who seemed a stranger to her in Lew’s place. He wore Lew’s clothes, and spoke with Lew’s voice, but seemed another man. He turned to Robert as she drew back bewildered, and burst into a laugh. “There’s a triumph for me; she doesn’t know me,” he said. Then he approached her with a deprecating look. “I am the man that was so rude to you last night. Forget there was ever such a person. You see I have thrown off all semblance of him.” He spoke gravely and with a sort of dignity, standing in the same place in which Mrs Ogilvy remembered in a flash of sudden vision he had almost shaken the life out of her last night, glaring at her with murderous eyes. There was a gleam in them still which was not reassuring; but his aspect was everything that was penitent and respectful. The change in his appearance was made by the removal of the beard which had covered his face. He had suddenly grown many degrees lighter in colour, it seemed, by the removal of that forest of dark hair; and the man had beautiful features, a fine mouth, that rare beauty either in man or woman. His expression had always been good-humoured and agreeable. It was more so, a look in which there seemed no guile, but for that newly awakened tigerish expression in his eyes. Mrs Ogilvy felt a thrill of terror such as had not moved her through all the horrors of the previous night, when Robbie for a moment left the room. She felt that the handsome smiling man before her would have strangled her without a moment’s hesitation had there been any possibility of getting the money for which he had struggled in another way, in what was for her fortunately the only possible way. She felt his grip upon her shoulders, and a shiver ran through her in spite of herself. She could not help a glance towards the door, where, indeed, Janet was at the moment about to come in, pushing it open before her. There was no danger to-day, with everybody about--but another night--who could tell?
When the dinner was over, Lew addressed her again. “This,” he said, putting up his hand to his chin, “is my _toilette de voyage_. You are going to be free of us soon. We shall make no flourish of trumpets, but go suddenly as we came.”