"Nothing. But listen: I will give you another twenty francs if you tell me all you know about her."
"Make it thirty," she said eagerly.
"It shall be thirty."
"The young girl—"
"The brown-eyed one who brought my wash?"
"Yes. She came to my house on Friday last. Madame Trois, your concierge, had given her my address. The girl said she must see you in your room, and must have an excuse for going there—all for a bit of fun. But Madame Trois told me to-day that it was a picture she wanted, for she gave her fifty francs the day before for trying to get it, and promised her as much more as it might cost if you should consent to sell it. When Madame Trois failed, the girl asked what other woman went to your room, and she sent her to me."
"Then she is no niece of yours?"
"If I had a niece she would not be running about alone in that way; but the girl said if you should question me I must tell you she is my niece, and give her any name I pleased. As if I did not have enough trouble naming my own children without puzzling over one for her! especially when she gave me but twenty francs, and Madame Trois throwing it in my teeth that she got fifty! I am even with her now;" and she held out her hand for the money with the pose of a malignant Victory.
"Is that all?"
"All about her, but Madame Trois says there is something wrong, for the house is watched by the police."