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A bent man who limped cautiously across the lawn and was making for the back of the house. Mr. Briggerland cocked his gun and took aim.... Both girls heard the shot, and Lydia, springing out of bed, ran on to the balcony. "It's all right, Mrs. Meredith," said Briggerland's voice. "It was a burglar, I think." "You haven't hurt him?" she cried, remembering old Jaggs's nocturnal habits.
"When I sat outside your door night after night and discovered you didn't snore," he said shamelessly, and she went red. "I hope you'll never refer to your old Jaggs's adventures. It was very " "What?" "I was going to say horrid, but I shouldn't be telling the truth," she admitted frankly. "I liked having you there. Poor Mrs.
Jaggs's retiring methods, but there was no sign of him, and she did not wait in the drizzling night to make any closer inspection. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer had not disguised the possibility of Jean Briggerland being at the club, and they found her with a gay party of young people, sitting in one of the recesses.
And then she had a little twinge of conscience, remembering that Jaggs's presence on a memorable afternoon had saved her from destruction. She wondered for the twentieth time what was old Jaggs's history, and where Jack had found him.
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