"When you know my secret, you will think it cheap at ten times ten guineas," said Goodridge. Aarons rose and began to button his surtout. "I see," he said, "that we are not like to agree, and as my time is valuable you will excuse me if I leave you to finish the bottle alone." As he spoke, he allowed some loose coins to rattle in his pocket, and in paying the reckoning, pulled out a handful of golden guineas and tossed one to the waiter. The sight of the money produced the effect he had expected. Goodridge’s moist eyes glistened and his lips pursed themselves greedily. "Sit down, Aarons," he said thickly, "and have a parting glass." With an air of reserve and ill-humor, the usurer poured a small quantity of wine into his glass and without resuming his seat nodded to his guest, and muttering something that might have been either a toast or a malediction, sipped it with a deprecatory expression. "Come now," said Goodridge, after waiting vainly for him to renew the negotiations; "what is it really worth to you to stop this marriage?" "It may not be worth a great deal to me," said Aarons carelessly, but he sat down; "you never can account for women’s vagaries. If I get her out of this affair, she may do worse instead of better." "She can’t do worse," chuckled Goodridge. But Aarons had not the key to his merriment and all his suspicions were centered on some unpardonable misdeed of the bridegroom elect. "Were you going to tell her so when I met you at her house?" he inquired, smiling grimly. "What do you expect to get from her?" "That’s my business," he retorted. "But I wasn’t going to offer _her_ any secrets for sale. Oh! no, the Lady Prudence is my good friend, and if I need a few guineas, she’s too kind-hearted to refuse me." Suddenly it dawned upon Aarons that there was something sinister in the situation; a woman like the Viscountess Brooke was not the friend of such a miserable wretch for mere kindliness. He felt that whatever the price, he must know the whole truth, if this man could be induced to tell it. "Will you take twenty guineas for your fine secret?" he asked with a sneer. "No, but I’ll take fifty and give you full value," said Goodridge. "I haven’t the proofs here, but I’ll tell you the secret for half the money and you shall give me the rest, when I give you the proofs. It’s a loss to me," he half-whimpered, "for if I kept the secret and used it right, I might live well on it as long as it remained a secret." Aarons counted out twenty-five gold coins upon the table, and covered them with his hand. "Now," he said, "there is half your price, and if you can give me a satisfactory reason why Sir Geoffrey Beaudesert can not, by any possibility, marry Lady Prudence Brooke, that money is yours, and as much more when I have your proofs. But if you are deceiving me, beware! I am not a man to be trifled with."