"I don't think so, knowing what I know."
"What do you know?" Diabella's metallic voice sounded somewhat nervous, and she dropped Vernon's hand to clasp her own on her lap.
"I know," said Vernon, bending closely towards her, "I know that my rival will marry neither Ida Dimsdale nor Lucy Corsoon."
Diabella shrank back and gripped the arms of her chair. "The names are not familiar to me," she breathed in a low voice.
"Think again. The first name is familiar, surely?" mocked Vernon. "Why should it be?"
"Colonel Towton might be able to answer that."
Diabella rose suddenly, tall and straight, from her chair and threw out her arms with a repellant gesture. "I do not know the name of Colonel Towton."
Vernon rose slowly and measured his distance carefully. "You seem to forget a great deal, madame," he said softly, his fingers itching to tear off the expressionless mask.
"I never ask the names of my clients," she mumbled.
"How do you know that Colonel Towton was a client of yours? I never told you."