"Why, Miss Drummond, what a sceptical person you are! Don't you believe what I'm telling you? You cross-examine me as if you were a King's Counsel."
The girl smiled upon him radiantly.
"It is only my anxiety lest you should lose money through me. Of course, I believe you, although I find it rather difficult to credit you with being a deep-sea fisherman. Now, do satisfy a woman's curiosity, and tell me the name of anyone in the West End whom you can hypnotise into buying my work."
"Well, there's—there's—there's Lord Stranleigh, for instance."
"Oh, do you know Lord Stranleigh of Wychwood?"
"I'm acquainted with him; I can't assert that I know him very intimately—that is to say, I don't quite understand the man, but I think I can sell him pictures."
"Are you aware that at Stranleigh Park he owns one of the finest collections of paintings in the world?"
"Yes, and I've seen the collection; but Stranleigh himself knows nothing about art. In many ways he's a stupid ass, but I'm sure I can palm off your water-colours on him."
This reply seemed to amuse Alice Drummond immensely.
"You have at last convinced me that you are
