"She is a most unhappy woman; a woman rather to be pitied than blamed."
"Ah!" said Fanks, drawing a long breath of satisfaction. "So you admit your identity at last."
"I can do nothing else. I do not wish my poor sister to know that I am Mrs. Boazoph. She thinks that I live on the money left to me by my late husband; she does not know that I keep this hotel; that I am the woman who has been mentioned so often in the papers, in connection with thieves, rogues, and detectives. Yes. I admit that I am Mrs. Bryant, the sister of Mrs. Colmer. Who told you?"
"Your niece, Anne."
"She had no business to do so."
"Very probably; but she could not help herself. I forced her to speak; how, it does not matter; but I extracted the truth out of her, Mrs. Bryant."
"Call me Mrs. Boazoph," flashed out the woman, "and relieve me of your presence as speedily as possible. What do you wish to know?"
"I wish to know the agreement you made with Dr. Binjoy, regarding this crime."
"Who is Dr. Binjoy?"
"Come now, Mrs. Boazoph, do not let us have another argument. I have neither the time nor the patience to endure one, I assure you. I know more than you think; and I can force you to speak if I so choose. I would rather not choose, if it is all the same to you. Let us conduct this conversation pleasantly, if possible. You know that Dr. Binjoy is the same as Dr. Renshaw?"