A light mist began to blow in his face as he paced back and forth
along the short block in which the Cables lived. He was working
his imagination up to a state bordering on frenzy. In his fancy he
could hear Graydon cursing him in the presence of his accusers. At
the end of the street he could see the break in the sea wall where
Cable and his wife had met, and he could not help wishing that Droom
had not pulled her from the water. Then he found himself wondering
if they had told Jane the story of her origin. The hope that she
was still undeceived flashed through him; it would give him a chance
for sweet revenge.

He confessed to himself that he was reckless. The transactions of
the past few days had left him at the edge of the abyss; he recognised
his peril, but could not see beyond his own impulses.

"I believe I'll do it," he was muttering to himself as he paused
across the street from their door. "Graydon ought to hear both
sides of the story."

He crossed the street with hesitating steps. His thin coat collar
was buttoned close about his neck; his gloveless hands were wet and
cold from the mist. As he stopped at the foot of the stone steps
a man came hurrying along, glancing at the house numbers as he
approached.

"Do you know whether this is David Cable's house?" he asked.

Bansemer saw that he was a young man and an eager one.