"Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly.
"Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy, like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it.'"
"Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara," said Lambert, taking the privilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I can see no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor."
"Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply.
"How do I wish you to help me, you mean."
"Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I know about it, my dear boy."
"You don't," retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'll tell you exactly what I mean."
Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and nodded in an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!"
"You must regard my confidence as sacred."
"There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire to learn who murdered Pine."