“But it is regarding an urgent and purely private affair that I wish to see Mrs Anson,” I said.
“I have nothing whatever to do with the private affairs of Mrs Anson,” she replied. “I merely rent this house from her, and, in justice to her, it is not likely that I give the address to every chance caller.”
“I am no chance caller,” I responded. “During her residence here six years ago I was a welcome guest at her table.”
“Six years ago is a long time. You may, for aught I know, not be so welcome now.”
Did she, I wondered, speak the truth?
“You certainly speak very plainly, madam,” I answered, rising stiffly. “If I have put you to any inconvenience I regret it. I can, no doubt, obtain from some other person the information I require.”
“Most probably you can, sir,” she answered, in a manner quite unruffled. “I tell you that if you write I shall at once forward your letter to her. More than that I cannot do.”
“I presume you are acquainted with Miss Mabel Anson?” I inquired.
She smiled with some sarcasm.
“The Anson family do not concern me in the least, sir,” she replied, also rising as sign that my unfruitful interview was at an end. Mention of Mabel seemed to have irritated her, and although I plied her with further questions, she would tell me absolutely nothing.