"Well," continued Mrs. Lester, "my son borrowed money from a money-lender in London, expecting, of course, to pay it back on his father's death. I must tell you that my husband married very late in life--he was quite thirty years my senior. No doubt this money-lender acquainted himself with Mr. Lester's age--and state of health." "He would, ma'am, he would!" agreed Starmidge. "He'd take particular good care of that, ma'am," added Easleby. "They always do--in such cases." "Yes," said Mrs. Lester, "but, you see, when my husband died, he did not leave Guy anything at all! He left everything to me. So Guy had nothing to pay the money-lender with. Then, of course, the money-lender began to press him, and in the end Guy was obliged to come and tell me all about it. That was only a few weeks ago. And it was very bad news, because the man claimed much--very much--more money than he had ever advanced. His demands were outrageous!" Starmidge gave Mrs. Lester a keen glance, and realized an idea of her innocence in financial matters. "Ah!" he observed, "they are very grasping, ma'am, some of these money-lenders! How much was this particular one asking of your son, now?" "He demanded between fourteen and fifteen thousand pounds," replied Mrs. Lester. "An abominable demand!--for my son assured me that at the very outside he had not had more than seven or eight thousand." "And--what happened, ma'am?" inquired Starmidge sympathetically. "The man pestered you, of course!" "Guy made him one or two offers," answered Mrs. Lester. "Of course I would have made them good--to get rid of the affair. It was no use--he had papers and things signed by Guy--who had borrowed all the money since he came of age--and he refused to abate a penny. The last time that Guy called on him, he told him flatly that he would have his fifteen thousand to the last shilling. It was, of course, extortion!" Starmidge and Easleby exchanged looks. Both felt that they were on the very edge of a discovery. "To be sure, ma'am," asserted Starmidge. "Absolute extortion! And--what is the name of the money-lending gentleman?" "His name," replied Mrs. Lester, "is Godwin Markham." "Did you ever see him, ma'am?" asked Starmidge. Mrs. Lester looked her astonishment. "I?" she exclaimed. "No--never!" "Did your son ever describe him to you?--his personal appearance, I mean," inquired Starmidge. Mrs. Lester shook her head. "No!" she replied. "Indeed, I have heard my son say that he never saw Markham himself but once. He did his--business, I suppose you would call it--with the manager--who always said--when this recent pressing began--that he was powerless--he could only do what Mr. Markham bade him do." "Precisely!" said Starmidge. "There generally is a manager whose chief business is to say that sort of thing, ma'am. Dear me!--and where, ma'am, is this Mr. Godwin Markham's office? You know that, no doubt?" "Oh, yes--it is in Conduit Street--off New Bond Street," replied Mrs. Lester.