"Moderately. But I play a silent part and say little. I shut my mouth and open my eyes. But what I came here to say is, that I intend to find out the assassin of Aaron Norman."
"I can't offer you a reward, Hurd," said Paul, with a sigh.
"Oh, that's all right. The widow, by the advice of Pash, has doubled the reward. One thousand pounds it is now—worth winning, eh?"
"Humph!" said Paul, moodily, "I shouldn't think she loved her husband so much as that."
Hurd's brown eyes shot a red flame which showed that he was excited, though he was cool enough externally. "Yes," he admitted in a careless manner, "she certainly does act the weeping widow in rather an exaggerated fashion. However, she's got the cash now—or at least her daughter has, which is the same thing. The two have taken up their quarters in a fashionable hotel in the West End, and are looking for a house. The old woman manages everything, and she will be one too many for Mr. Hay."
"What? Does he know Mrs. Krill? He said he didn't."
"Quite right. He didn't when the ladies went first to Pash's office. But Hay, on the look-out for a rich wife, got Pash to introduce him to the ladies, who were charmed with him. He's making up to the daughter, even in the few weeks that have elapsed, and now is assisting them to find a house. The daughter loves him I fancy, but whether the mother will allow the marriage to take place I can't say."
"Surely not on such a short acquaintance."
Hurd bent forward as about to say something, then changed his mind. "Really, I don't know—Hay is fascinating and handsome. Have you been to see him yet?"
"No. He asked me, but all these troubles have put him out of my head. Why do you ask?"