“Leave the room now,” Mary ordered, crisply. “When I call to you, come in, but be sure and leave everything to me. Merely follow my lead. And, Agnes—be very ingenue.”
“Oh, I'm wise—I'm wise,” Aggie nodded, as she hurried out toward her bedroom. “I'll be a squab—surest thing you know!”
Next moment, Mary gave a formal greeting to the lawyer who represented the man she planned to mulct effectively, and invited him to a chair near her, while she herself retained her place at the desk, within a drawer of which she had just locked the formidable-appearing document received from Harris.
Irwin lost no time in coming to the point.
“I called in reference to this suit, which Miss Agnes Lynch threatens to bring against my client, General Hastings.”
Mary regarded the attorney with a level glance, serenely expressionless as far as could be achieved by eyes so clear and shining, and her voice was cold as she replied with significant brusqueness.
“It's not a threat, Mr. Irwin. The suit will be brought.”
The lawyer frowned, and there was a strident note in his voice when he answered, meeting her glance with an uncompromising stare of hostility.
“You realize, of course,” he said finally, “that this is merely plain blackmail.”
There was not the change of a feature in the face of the woman who listened to the accusation. Her eyes steadfastly retained their clear gaze into his; her voice was still coldly formal, as before.