was your work. That you had done everything else to hurt her."
For the first time in his life Steele knew the burning desire to strike a woman. She was lying to him and he knew it. And yet bluster and threat would get him nowhere with her. He strode across the room, paused and regarded her long and searchingly.
"You and Embry are very close friends?" he asked, forcing himself at last to speak quietly. "Is that it, or ..."
"Or what, Mr. Steele?"
"Or," he blurted out, "has he paid you for your part?"
"Haven't you insulted me enough?"
"No," came his crisp rejoinder. "I don't think I have. I think that I know the sort you are, Mrs. Denham. If that be an insult here is an added one: Joe Embry paid you and for the information you can give me I will pay you twice as much!"
He saw that his second "insult" had been coolly received, that Mrs. Denham's bright eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Eagerly he awaited her answer.
"You are a strange sort of man, Mr. Steele," was what she said.
He made no reply, fixing her with a keen regard. Presently she laughed.
"You asked if Mr. Emery and I were very dear friends? I think that I have never known a man to detest more heartily. You say that you know what sort I am? Let us see. I am a widow with no thought of marrying again. I like the pretty things of life.
