"I did not pay--no, not one sou. He did it for love."
"Oh, indeed! So Bawdsey is in love with you?"
Lola threw back her head defiantly. "Yes, he is, and I care not one, two, three little trifles for him. Chup! He is old--he is red--he is one big fool, that I can twist and twist----"
"And you apparently have done so. Well, then, Lola, did you get him from a private inquiry office?"
"No, I did not so. He loved me, and sent me flowers--oh, many, many flowers--those roses." She pointed to the silver dish.
"So you can't tell the truth even in that," said George, deliberately. "What of the friend in San Remo?"
"It is his friend. He had flowers from his friend. He told that."
Brendon sat up with an eager look in his eyes. So Bawdsey knew some one in San Remo. Probably he had been there, and Bawdsey was acquainted with his name. Brendon began to think that there was some meaning in all these things and plied Lola with questions. She was sulky at first and would not answer. But Brendon knew how to manage her, and before the conclusion of the conversation he got the whole truth out of her. This was accomplished by using what the Americans call "bluff."
"So Bawdsey knows San Remo, and he is fifty, or over fifty, years of age. H'm! He knows all the history of the place, I suppose."
"I know not--nothing do I know."