It was with some difficulty that I commanded my voice. Miss Monk, I thought, must be very sure that she had hidden her trail successfully, else she would scarcely dare to speak in this way. But, of course, as I remembered, she did not yet know that I had found her cloak. "You would like to have the woman traced?"
"Yes," she said coolly, "and the eye recovered, if it means the recovery of my money. I inherit fifty thousand pounds by----"
"I know: I know," said I hastily, "Mrs. Gilfin told me."
Miss Monk's face clouded. "I daresay," she remarked bitterly, "the story of the missing money is common property. No doubt Mrs. Gilfin told you that my uncle Gabriel was a miser."
"Yes. She told me a good deal."
"You asked her?" questioned the girl, suddenly.
"I admit it: in the interests of the case."
"Of course," she said, whether ironically or not I could not determine, and then walked on in silence.
Shortly we were abreast of a mouldering red-brick wall on the outskirts of the village. Beyond could be seen the mellow-tiled roofs of a large mansion.
Miss Monk stopped abruptly. "I live here," she said, with some coldness, "and must go in. Good-day, Mr. Vance."