The patient Jose Ferreira was despatched on a mission to Madrid, partly because Brigot was tired of seeing him hanging about, and partly because there was some genuine business to be done in the capital.
Sadie reported progress to her employer.
“Oh, yes, he’s crazy enough about me,” she said complacently, “and I’m going a little crazy myself. How long is this to go on?”
“Another week?” suggested Cartwright, smiling approvingly at the gloom on the pretty face. “Have you mentioned the fact that you’ve taken a fancy to his land?”
She nodded.
“He wanted to give it to me there and then,” she said, “but you know what these Spaniards are. If I had accepted, there would have been nothing for me but the front door.”
“Quite right,” agreed Cartwright. “He is the kind of fish you must play. Did he say anything about other offers he had received for the property?”
The girl nodded.
“He spoke about you,” she said; “he called you Benson—is that your real name?”
“It is good enough,” said Cartwright.