Labar grunted. She went on with her recital. The money was sent to “James Smith,” at what was, as she had taken the trouble to find out, an accommodation address at Kennington. After she had conceded the first demand, others came with growing frequency and for increasing amounts. Always they had to be paid in cash, and always they were sent to varying addresses and varying names. At first she had been able to satisfy the blackmailer without great inconvenience to herself, but the time came when she was put to considerable stress. She sold her personal jewels, and replaced them with paste. She had dabbled with moneylenders. She had plunged on race meetings.

“What about Hughes?” broke in Labar at this point. “Didn’t you say anything about this to him?”

“Yes. He urged me to refuse, and to go to the police or my husband. I have asked him to help me out once or twice, but he made difficulties. However, I have had about a couple of thousands out of him.”

“I see. You didn’t know that most of that was going back into his own pocket. Tell me of this forgery.”