"Did I ever 'back out of a bargain,' as you coarsely express it? I think, Sabina, I have trusted you a good deal already."
"Well, split the difference," said Sabina roughly. "Give me ten down on the nail, and ten when I've done the work. I dare say I can manage it to-night. I can write to you when it's over."
"Very well. Here are ten pounds for you; I will give you the other when your work is done. But do not write to me; come to me at the Grosvenor Hotel to-morrow morning. I shall stay the night in town!"
"Have you any idea who the man is?" said Sabina, as she received the bottle and the ten-pound note from her visitor's hands.
"Yes, I have; but I may be wrong."
"That's not very likely, ma'am. You'd 'a' made a good detective, as I always did think—you're so sharp."
"And I don't look it, as you said before. Perhaps I will tell you to-morrow morning, Sabina. At present I am going to find out all that I can about Miss Cynthia West. You did not give me her address; give it to me now."
She wrote it down in a little pocket-book, and then rose to take her leave. Sabina, who followed her to the cab, heard her tell the man to drive to the box-office of the Frivolity Theatre.
It took Mrs. Vane three-quarters of an hour to reach the Frivolity. It was half-past three when she got there. She asked at once if it was possible to see the manager, Mr. Ferguson. A gold coin probably expedited her messenger and rendered her entrance to the great man possible; for Mrs. Vane was a very handsome and well-dressed woman, and the "important business" on which she sent word that she had come had possibly less influence on the manager's mind than the glowing account given by the man despatched from the box-office on her errand.
Flossy was lucky. Mr. Ferguson was in the building—a rather unusual fact; he was also willing to see her in his private room—another concession; and he received her with moderate civility—a variation from his usual manner, which Mrs. Vane must have owed to her own manner and appearance.