"Yes."
"I assure you. In that respect, the picture is absolutely genuine."
Tom thought it over.
"Wait a while. Was the story genuine, too?"
John Andrusco smiled. He sat on the sofa, and rubbed the palms of his hands over his knees. Then he looked towards Livia Cord and said:
"Well—I didn't think we could hold out on our clever Mr. Blacker as long as we have. So we might as well enlist his cooperation fully. Eh, Livia?"
"I think so." The girl smiled, her teeth sharp.
"What does that mean?" Tom said.
"The infant," John Andrusco answered slowly, "was not Walter Spencer's child. That, I'm afraid, was nothing more than a little white lie."
Tom looked confused.