"I shall not detain you for more than a very few minutes, Mr. Ferguson," said Flossy, with the air of a duchess, as she accepted the chair which the manager offered her; "but I have a good reason for coming to you. I think that a young lady called Cynthia West was once acting at this theatre? To put my question in plain words—Do you know anything about her?"
The manager sneered a little.
"A good deal," he said. "Oh, yes—she was here! I don't know that I have anything to tell, however. I should think that Mr. Hubert Lepel, if you know him, could tell you more about her than any one."
"I happen to be Mr. Lepel's sister," said Flossy, with dignity.
"The deuce you are!" remarked the manager to himself. "That explains——" Aloud—"Well, madam, how can I assist you? Do you want to know Miss West's character? Well, that was—if I may use the word—notorious."
Flossy's eyes gleamed.
"So I expected to hear," she murmured. "I am afraid that my poor brother has some thought of—of marrying her."
"Oh, surely not!" said Mr. Ferguson. "Surely he wouldn't be such a fool!"
"Can you tell me anything definite about her?"
"Excuse me, madam, for asking; but you—naturally—wish to prevent the marriage, if possible?"