"Yes," he assented. "You find it pays."
"You may or may not remember," she went on with great deliberation, "that you once requested me to discover for you—or for a client, you said—what became of certain papers which you drew up for Mr. Mullen of Montfield."
"I remember," the other said, his eyes twinkling more than ever.
"I had hard work enough," Flora continued, "to trace them as far as I did, and little gratitude I got for my pains."
"You did not discover where the papers were?"
"I found that they had been in the possession of Mrs. Smithers."
"Her name," Mr. Wentworth remarked, pressing softly together the tips of his plump fingers, "is not Mrs. Smithers. She never married. It is best to be exact."
"Miss Clemens, then," said Flora. "I know now where those papers are."
"You do?" the old lawyer cried, at last showing some excitement. "Where are they?"
"That is my secret," she answered, with the faintest smile, and a nod of her head. "When is that directors' meeting?"