I replied mechanically, for my head was in a whirl, and submitted to be led to a far distant corner of the garden where the greenhouses nestled under the red brick wall. Here, while Mr. Monk discoursed learnedly on flowers,--about which he knew less than nothing,--I wondered in my own mind what might be the meaning of my discovery. The glass eye could have been left in the drawing-room by no one but Gertrude, since I already possessed her cloak to show--what I had hitherto shrunk from acknowledging even to myself--that she was the lady who had stolen my motor-car. Then again, she was the one person who had a right to the fifty thousand pounds when found. I groaned. It really seemed that my pearl amongst woman was guilty of theft and murder. And yet, even at the eleventh hour, I could not make up my mind to believe that she was guilty.
Mr. Monk mistook my groan for weariness, and became offended. "I fear you don't take much interest in flowers, Mr. Vance," he said, glaring at me through his pince-nez.
"Oh, yes; they interest me; pray proceed," I said, hastily.
"No. The air of this place is so dense that it gives me a headache. The day is uncommonly warm for this season of the year. Let us return to the house. I have a new song I should like to show you. To-morrow I return to London, and shall not see you for some time."
"Oh, I can call on you when I go back to town," I said idly, for my brain was still preoccupied with the glass eye problem.
"No! No! Pardon me, no," said Mr. Monk decidedly and hastily. "I am going away for a few weeks to the Continent--on business of course."
"Business," I echoed, "I thought you were free, Mr. Monk."
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as we slowly walked across the lawn towards the shallow steps of the terrace. "I have five hundred a year," he declared, "and what is that, a mere pittance. I have to allow Gertrude something and have this house to keep up. Also my flat in London has to be rented. I can't do that on ten pounds a week."
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he did not remain at Burwain and play the part of a country gentleman, to reduce his expenditure, when he proceeded. "Yes, I am in business of a sort, connected with commissions on loans. That is, you will understand, Mr. Vance, I am not a money lender--far from it. I simply find people who have no money and who want it and agree to procure them money from those who possess it, on condition that I have a ten per cent commission. In a word I induce my many friends to benefit each other and so benefit myself. Come Mr. Vance, you are a rising dramatist who should be better known in the West End. Suppose you allow me--at ten per cent--to arrange a loan for you to produce one of your better class plays."