some way out of his reach as he sat on the bed. He rose, and satisfied himself that the lights were all in order. Then he turned on his heel, walked quickly into Manderson's room, and rang the bell.
'I want your help again, Martin,' he said, as the butler presented himself, upright and impassive, in the doorway. 'I want you to prevail upon Mrs. Manderson's maid to grant me an interview.'
'Certainly, sir,' said Martin.
'What sort of a woman is she? Has she her wits about her?'
'She's French, sir,' replied Martin succinctly; adding after a pause: 'She has not been with us long, sir, but I have formed the impression that the young woman knows as much of the world as is good for her–since you ask me.'
'You think butter might possibly melt in her mouth, do you?' said Trent. 'Well, I am not afraid. I want to put some questions to her.'
'I will send her up immediately, sir.' The butler withdrew, and Trent wandered round the little room with his hands at his back. Sooner
