What should she do? Should she consult a solicitor? If so, to whom should she go? Not, certainly, to the cold, steely-eyed man who had persisted in believing Gerard guilty. Audrey knew of no other, and had a vague idea that lawyers were for the most part wicked people, whose one object was to get fees; besides which, she had a much better grounded feeling that her own tale was too incoherent, and her own history too chequered, for her to have a good chance of getting believed without stronger proof than she could at present bring of the doings of the gang. She thought, however, that Mrs. Webster might be able to give her the name of a solicitor to whom she could apply, and in the meantime she decided that her best course was to behave as much as possible as if nothing had happened of an unusual nature, and to sound Mademoiselle about the purchase of her interest in the business. When, therefore, Marie Laure had done with her customers, and had dropped the conventional smile of the tradeswoman for the severe expression she wore when there was nothing to be sold, Audrey approached the subject in her mind by saying that she was tired of the business, and wished that she could sell it. Marie Laure listened in stony silence, with a quick little arrowlike glance at the younger woman’s face which revealed a greater knowledge of the lady’s reasons than she professed to have. And she answered very drily that she supposed Madame would consult Mr. Candover about that. “Oh, I have no need to consult anybody,” replied Audrey quickly, speaking in French, the only language Mademoiselle Laure professed to know. “I have made up my mind.” “You have not been long enough at the head of the business to make it your own,” answered Mademoiselle sharply. “What have you done as yet except drive away some of the customers other people have brought you?” This, Audrey thought, argued a very close acquaintance with what had taken place that afternoon, and a better knowledge of the English language than Laure professed to possess. “I’ve paid fifteen hundred pounds,” answered Audrey, “for the lease and furniture, and I am entitled to get something for those.” Laure looked grim. “When you have worked up the business,” she said drily, “which you will do better when you have sacrificed some of your British primness and coldness, you will have a right to talk of your interest in it. At present what you have given is as nothing to what others have supplied.” “I don’t pretend that I’ve given everything,” answered Audrey gently but with firmness, “I only said that I have a right to expect to get something for my share. Would you be inclined to buy me out? You are a much cleverer saleswoman than I should ever make.”