“You were formerly married, I believe, to a woman who is now known as Mrs. Craig.” Dwelling, as it had been, on the plaudits, the hearty enthusiasms of the evening, on the written speech reposing in an inside pocket, Mr. Bigelow's mind came to earth with a shock. He stopped abruptly, threw a quick look at the thin man, and then, recalling that the sidewalk was still covered with people, he moved on. “Have you come here to discuss my private affairs?” he said brusquely. “In a sense, yes. The matter has been put into my hands, and I thought the most satisfactory thing would be to come out here and talk to you. Of course, if you'd rather I'd see somebody else, it makes no difference to me.” Mr. Bigelow was silent for a moment. Le Due glanced sideways at him as they passed under a corner light, and was glad to observe that he had penetrated the man's armour. “Are you a lawyer?” was the Chairman's abrupt question. “No, sir.” “In what capacity have you come here?” “Why, you see, Lizzie, Mrs. Craig's daughter, is my wife.” Mr. Bigelow's reply was a half-audible grunt. “Mrs. Craig, you understand, is really suffering. She has no income and we have been keeping her with us; but I am not in a position to do much for her--not as much as I should like.” “What do you want of me?” “I believe--that you agreed to support her.” “Well, how much do you want?” “That isn't it, you see.” Somewhat eagerly this. “It wasn't only that you agreed to support her, but the courts decided that you should. So it isn't a question of what you might offer or me accept, but of how much is owing on past years. I think I can understand it--I suppose a man gets tired of paying out money he doesn't get any return for--and of course it's been a good many years----” “Never mind about that.” “Well--you see--I've thought there was some misunderstanding about the business. She says you told her to go to law if she wanted to, but I thought she must have misunderstood you. Of course, she could, you know, but her case is very good, I think. It would be expensive all 'round; and it mightn't be pleasant.” Very true, Apples. It might be decidedly unpleasant, now that a voluble young man, with apparently no regard for the proprieties, has sprung up from nowhere to push matters. “Well, what _do_ you want?” “I've talked it all over with Mrs. Craig and she has told me just how things stand. She has kept a pretty regular account of everything; and she figures it out about like this. There were five years, nearly five, anyhow--we don't want to quibble over that--when she was to all intents and purposes paid up. Since then there haven't been any regular payments, except about five hundred dollars that's been given her in small sums. It was to be a thousand dollars a year, I believe. Five thousand five hundred from seventeen thousand leaves eleven thousand five hundred still due her--call it an even eleven thousand.” “You say you are not a lawyer?” “No, sir.”