“Great heavens, yes!” I cried. “What do you know of that?”
“I know—something. Enough, maybe, to help you to find the thing for him—if you will promise to help Ivor.”
“Oh, shame,” I cried violently, sick of bargains and promises. “You are trying to bribe me!”
“Yes, but I am not ashamed,” the girl answered, holding her head high. “I have not the thing which was lost; but I can get it for you—this very night or to-morrow morning, if you will do what I ask.”
“I tell you I cannot,” I said. “Not even to get back that thing whose loss was the beginning of all my misery. Ivor would not wish me to ruin myself and—another. Mr. Dundas must be saved without me. Please go. If we talked of this together all night, it could make no difference. And I’m in great trouble, great trouble of my own.”
“Has your trouble anything to do with a document?” Miss Forrest slowly asked.
I started, and stared at her, breathless.
“It has!” she answered for me. “Your face tells me so.”
“Has Ivor’s message—to do with that?” I almost gasped.
“Perhaps. But he had no good news of it to give you. If you want news—if you want the document, it must be through me.”