The girl looked at him astonished. She could not conceive that a man like the one looking at her could be serious in talking of a business proposition.
“With me?” she demanded, and Taylor could see that the idea was not pleasing. He resolved to abandon his usual hectoring tactics and adopt softer modes.
“I mean it,” he asserted. “You said you’ve read about all this smuggling and so on. Believe me, you’ve not read a thousandth part of what’s going on all the time, despite all our efforts to check it. The difficult part is that many of the women are so socially prominent that it isn’t easy to detect them. They move in the sort of world you move in.” He leaned forward and spoke impressively. “But it’s a world where neither I nor my men could pass muster for a moment. Do you follow me?”
“I hear what you say,” she said, “but—”
He interrupted her, “Miss Cartwright, we are looking for someone who belongs in society by right. Someone who is clever enough to provide us with information and yet never be suspected. We want someone above suspicion. We want someone, for instance, like you.”
That his proposition was offensive to her he could see from the faint flush that passed over her face and the rather haughty tone that she adopted.
“Really, Mr. Taylor,” she cried, “you probably mean well, but—”
Again he cut her short.
“Just listen a moment, Miss Cartwright,” he begged. “I have reason to know that your family has been in financial difficulties since your father died.” He looked at her shrewdly. “The position I hinted at could be made very profitable. How would you like to enter the secret service of the United States Customs?” He could see she was far from being placated at his hint of financial reward.
“This is quite too preposterous,” she said icily. “It may possibly be your idea of a joke, Mr. Taylor, but it is not mine.”