It was as her note had indicated--she didn't read the papers. Obeying an unformed policy, David refrained from acquainting her with the truth. "He's not at home. I've come because his affairs are left with me." Her eyes gleamed. "So he's run away from home!" She sneered, but the sneer could not wholly hide her disappointment. "That won't save him!" She paused an instant. "Well--what're you here for?" "I told you I represent him." "You're his lawyer?" "I'm his friend." "Well, I'm listening. Go on." The fear had taken on an almost definite shape. David shrunk from what he was beginning to see. But it was his duty to settle the affair, and settle it he could not without knowing its details. "To begin with, I shall have to ask some information from you," he said with an effort. "Mr. Morton left this matter entirely in my hands, but he told me nothing concerning its nature." She half closed her eyes, and regarded David intently. "You brought the money?" she asked abruptly. "No." "Then he's----" She made a grim cipher with her forefinger, and stood up. "If there's no money, good afternoon!" David did not rise. He guessed her dismissal to be a bit of play-acting. "Whatever comes to you must come through me," he said, "and you of course realise that nothing can come from me till I understand the situation." "He understands it. That's enough." "Oh, very well then. I see you want nothing." David determined to try play-acting himself. He rose. "Let it be good-afternoon." She stopped him at the portieres, as he had expected. "It's mighty queer, when Morton's been trying hard to keep this thing between himself and me, for him to send a third person here." "I can't help that," he returned with a show of indifference. "But how do I know you really represent him?" "You must take my word for it. Or you can telephone St. Christopher's and ask if David Aldrich is not in charge of his affairs." She eyed him steadily for a space. "You look on the square," she said abruptly; then she added with an ominous look: "If there's no money, you know what'll happen!" David shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I know nothing." She was thoughtfully silent for several minutes. David studied her face, in preparation for the coming conflict. He saw that appeal to her better parts would avail nothing. He could guess that she needed money; it was plainly her nature, when roused, to spare nothing to gain her desire. And if defeated, she could be vindictive, malevolent. In her inward struggle between caution and desire for money, greed had the assistance of her pride; for a woman living upon her attraction for men, is by nature vain of her conquests. Also, David's physical appearance was an element in the contest. Her quick bold eyes, looking him over, noted that he was tall and straight, square of shoulder, good-looking. Greed and its allies won. "Well, if you want to know, come back," she said.