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It was done rashly and on the spur of the moment. Exactly what he was going to discover Gilray had not the faintest notion. It seemed a ridiculous thing for a prominent Harley-street specialist to be setting out on a wild, midnight adventure like this with no logical excuse, and no notion where the escapade might lead him. Madame Desterre had annoyed and piqued him. She had spoken of his private affairs with thinly-veiled insolence, and she had, moreover, threatened him. Who was this giddy, glittering society butterfly who ventured to pit her wits against his? He would show her that this sort of thing was not to be tolerated.
Gilray's blood was up now, and he was determined to see the matter through. The more knowledge he gained the better armed would he be for the fray, if fray there was eventually to be. He had been warned to make no further advances towards Enid Harley: he had been threatened with serious consequences if he did so. Indeed, it seemed to him that Madame Desterre had almost gone so far as to offer him a bribe. She had certainly given him a hint to the effect that his troubles would be at an end if he did as he was told. Assuredly his financial embarrassments must be quite well known to the beautiful and fascinating Frenchwoman.