“At any rate,” she said, smiling sweetly at him, “it’s very kind of you to call and give them back to me.” There was a pause as he cleared his throat. “I am a poor man, Mrs. Revel,” he said at last, with a good deal of significance in his manner. “As such you will doubtless find it easier to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, or so I have always heard.” “I cannot afford to let you have these letters for nothing.” “I think you are under a misapprehension. Those letters are the property of the person who wrote them.” “That may be the law, madame, but in this country you have a saying ‘Possession is nine points of the law.’ And, in any case, are you prepared to invoke the aid of the law?” “The law is a severe one for blackmailers,” Virginia reminded him. “Come, Mrs. Revel, I am not quite a fool. I have read these letters—the letters of a woman to her lover, one and all breathing dread of discovery by her husband. Do you want me to take them to your husband?” “You have overlooked one possibility. Those letters were written some years ago. Supposing that since then—I have become a widow.” He shook his head with confidence. “In that case—if you had nothing to fear—you would not be sitting here making terms with me.” Virginia smiled. “What is your price?” she asked in a business-like manner. “For one thousand pounds I will hand the whole packet over to you. It is very little that I am asking there; but, you see, I do not like the business.” “I shouldn’t dream of paying you a thousand pounds,” said Virginia with decision. “Madame, I never bargain. A thousand pounds, and I will place the letters in your hands.” Virginia reflected. “You must give me a little time to think it over. It will not be easy for me to get such a sum together.” “A few pounds on account perhaps—say fifty—and I will call again.” Virginia looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past four, and she fancied that she had heard the bell. “Very well,” she said hurriedly. “Come back to-morrow, but later than this. About six.” She crossed over to a desk that stood against the wall, unlocked one of the drawers, and took out an untidy handful of notes. “There is about forty pounds here. That will have to do for you.” He snatched at it eagerly. “And now go at once, please,” said Virginia. He left the room obediently enough. Through the open door, Virginia caught a glimpse of George Lomax in the hall, just being ushered upstairs by Chilvers. As the front door closed, Virginia called to him. “Come in here, George. Chilvers, bring us tea in here, will you please?” She flung open both windows, and George Lomax came into the room to find her standing erect with dancing eyes and wind-blown hair. “I’ll shut them in a minute, George, but I felt the room ought to be aired. Did you fall over the blackmailer in the hall?” “The what?” “Blackmailer, George. B.L.A.C.K.M.A.I.L.E.R? Blackmailer. One who blackmails.” “My dear Virginia, you can’t be serious!”