Mr. Mayfair smiled persuasively. "If you would tell me what you know about them, and lead me to where they are, my paper would be quite willing to be liberal. Say twenty dollars."
"I'd accept it gladly," said Mr. Pyecroft, "but I know nothing of the matter."
"One hundred," bid Mr. Mayfair.
"I would have done it for twenty, if I could. But I couldn't do it for a thousand. They are not here."
"I know better!" snapped Mr. Mayfair, his manner sharp again. "Who's that?" he demanded suspiciously, pointing at Mary's shadow-veiled figure.
"That? That is my niece. The daughter of my sister Angelica here."
"Is she your mother?" demanded Mr. Mayfair of Mary.
"Yes, sir," breathed Mary from her corner.
"Madam, is she your daughter?"
Mrs. De Peyster did not reply.