“You can easily comprehend,” remarked he, “that a man in my line of business has to learn many things. If I did not take the greatest precautions, I should be deceived daily, and so lead others into error.”
Paul had not been more than an hour in the office, but the directions given to Beaumarchef had already taught him how many of these events were arranged.
“Though I may be curious,” went on Mascarin, “I am the symbol of discretion; so answer me frankly: How did your mother receive this annuity?”
“Through a Parisian solicitor.”
“Do you know him?”
“Not at all,” answered Paul, who had begun to grow uneasy under this questioning, for a kind of vague apprehension was aroused in his mind, and he could not see the utility of any of these interrogations. There was, however, nothing in Mascarin’s manner to justify the misgivings of the young man, for he appeared to ask all these questions in quite a matter-of-course way, as if they were purely affairs of business.
After a protracted silence, Mascarin resumed,—
“I am half inclined to believe that the solicitor sent the money on his own account.”
“No, sir,” answered Paul. “I am sure you are mistaken.”
“Why are you so certain?”