“And you?” breathlessly cried Vreeland.
“I stood mute; for I dared go no further. But I have her picture, at any rate. I will have her secretly shadowed.
“I will wager my head there is some one nearer and dearer to the shy bird than Miss Majestic would have me believe. You can’t blame me; I did my best. But it has been a Waterloo.”
The listener swore a mighty oath in his sudden jealous rage. Vreeland’s face hardened.
“See here, just lock her picture up in your private safe. Do nothing—wait for me. I’ll follow up the quest alone.”
“And there is five hundred dollars for your obedience, and now, silence. I’ll stay here an hour and jolly these people.”
“To-morrow at ten at your office. And if you should meet her, simply ignore the matter.
“I shall tell her, of course, that Manson, an old friend, asked me informally, and that our meeting was brought about by pure chance.”
Miss Joanna Marble’s hard laugh rattled in her “bony frame.” “I think our ingenue, young as she is, has already a little commencement of a ‘past,’ a little ‘jardin secret,’ where flowers of other days still bloom.
“But I am in your hands. I will obey you. You are the paymaster, and you know I am not ‘in business for my health.’”