"I do not believe that this is a plant. Mrs. Markham, shall we bargain?"
"I like the life in London," said Mrs. Markham. "I have been waiting to retire."
"Twenty-five thousand dollars?"
"Oh dear, no! Fifty."
Norcross drew a check book, flipped it on his knee. Mrs. Markham raised a protesting hand.
"Yes, you will—you'll take it in a check or not at all," he said. "I want this transaction recorded. I'll tell you why. It is worth just that to keep this story out of the papers. I was caught, and I pay. It is worth no more. I will give you this check to-night. You will cash it in the morning. I shall have the cancelled check as a voucher. If ever you ask me for a dollar more, you go to State's Prison for extortion—on the testimony of these three witnesses. My legal department is the best in the country. In short, it is worth fifty thousand dollars to me. It is not worth fifty thousand and one. Also, you sail to London within a week. Does that go?"
Mrs. Markham drummed a minute with her fingers, and her face went a shade paler.
"It does," she said in a low voice.
Blake bent over Annette.
"Do you hear that?" he asked. "Do you know what it means? It is called blackmail!"