"I have no security," I objected.
"I can arrange that," said Mr. Monk with an airy wave of his hand, "and if you can find that eye," I started violently, but he did not appear to notice, "and get the fifty thousand pounds, I shall let you have the money myself at the same percentage. I shall not charge any commission," he ended generously, quite forgetting that he was proposing to gamble with his daughter's money. But that obtuseness was Mr. Monk all over.
"If I could see you in town,"--
"Later on: later on," he said hastily mounting the steps, "say in three or four months when I return from the Continent. Then we can have a talk."
"Your address is?"--
He interrupted again. "I shall see you here: I shall see you here. It will be much more convenient for me," and he passed through the French window into the drawing-room.
Mr. Monk puzzled me, as I did not understand why he should refuse to see me on his--so to speak--business premises, seeing he desired to speak with me on a business matter. However, all his froth and small talk were driven out of my head by my discovery that the glass eye had disappeared from the small table. I suppose Gertrude had put it into her pocket, as she was in the room arranging some flowers in a vase. I glanced at her keenly, but she appeared to be perfectly cool.
"Where is your aunt?" asked Monk, looking around.
"She has gone home again: she only came to see if she could get Joseph to attend to her place," said Gertrude, busy with her flowers, "good-morning, Mr. Vance."
"Good-morning," I answered looking hard at her--so hard that she blushed becomingly, but certainly not guiltily.