that I proposed to live by my wits. It seems to me that I have now proved I have some wits to live by! I admit I have knowledge of a certain name, but perhaps my knowledge ends there.”
“Yes—and perhaps it doesn’t,” snarled Whittington.
“You insist on misjudging me,” said Tuppence, and sighed gently.
“As I said once before,” said Whittington angrily, “quit fooling, and come to the point. You can’t play the innocent with me. You know a great deal more than you’re willing to admit.”
Tuppence paused a moment to admire her own ingenuity, and then said softly:
“I shouldn’t like to contradict you, Mr. Whittington.”
“So we come to the usual question—how much?”
Tuppence was in a dilemma. So far she had fooled Whittington with complete success, but to mention a palpably impossible sum might awaken his suspicions. An idea flashed across her brain.
“Suppose we say a little something down, and a fuller discussion of the matter later?”
Whittington gave her an ugly glance.
“Blackmail, eh?”
Tuppence smiled sweetly.
“Oh no! Shall we say payment of services in advance?”
Whittington grunted.