"You'll tell me before I let you in."
"Margaret Wallace--that girl--you know--she came this morning and told me it was there."
"I don't believe it. Why should she, of all people, come and tell you a thing like that? Tell that for a tale."
"She did; I swear she did. The money's there--I know just where--a quarter of a million at least."
"A quarter of a million?"
"At least! If I was there I'd have it in my hands inside two minutes. I'm as sure of it as I am that I'm alive. Don't be silly; let me in, and let's talk where we can be alone. I'm on the square--I swear it. I don't want anything from you; I just want your advice--that's all."
There was another pause.
"Mrs. Lamb, I've got a telephone installed in these premises. I'm going to telephone to a friend that you're here; I'm going to ask him to step round in a few minutes. If, when he comes, you've been making trouble, there'll be trouble for you--you'll be the sorriest woman that ever lived. I give you my word; when I give you my word on a point like that you know it goes. You wait there until I'm ready."
The head was withdrawn; the window closed; the lady waited, impatiently enough. Her patience was sufficiently tried. It seemed to her that she waited an hour; she certainly did wait twenty minutes. More than once she was on the point of sounding a loud rat-a-tat on the knocker by way of a little reminder. It was only with an effort she restrained herself, being conscious that possibly Mr. Luker's decision still hung in the balance, and that it needed but little to turn the balance against her. She had just arrived at a final conclusion that he had played her false, or, at any rate, intended to ignore her existence, when the door was opened, on the chain.
"I've telephoned to my friend; he's coming; so, if you're in an argumentative frame of mind, you'd better take my strong advice and stay outside. No argument will be allowed in here."