“Six months ago I was worth ten millions.”
“That does not interest me, either.”
“You need not reiterate the statement, madam; I shall interest you before I am done with you.”
“I wish you were not so slow about it, then.”
“Do you know a man named Nicholson?”
“Yes.”
“Nicholson tried first to ruin me and then to murder me.”
The young man paused, as if to allow this startling sentence to produce its effect. The young woman’s eyes were upon the ground, but after a few moments of silence she glanced up at him with a languid air of indifference and said: “Is this the interesting part? Is any comment expected of me? If so, I can only say that Mr. Nicholson is usually successful in what he attempts, and I deeply regret the failure of his second project. It would have saved me from a most unpleasant encounter.”
“Quite so,” said Steele, tightening his lips. “I am glad you take it that way. Nicholson, as, of course, you know, was acting for the organisation which, I understand, contributes some fifty millions a year towards your support. In spite of your humane wish, he failed in his two attempts, but his third conspiracy succeeded.”
“Ah! you were right, Mr. Steele, you do interest me. What did he endeavour to do on the third occasion? Consign you to a lunatic asylum?”