Bath Belles by Joan Smith Page A

head in what was meant to be a bow and left.
    “Are you ready to make me a firm offer, sir?”I asked.
    "I shall have to go over the report with Grant first. When may I return?”
    “As soon as you make up your mind. I should caution you that someone else is coming to look at the house today.”
    A blaze of interest flashed in his dark eyes. “Who is that?”
    “I don’t know the gentleman’s name—he’s a friend of a friend.”
    “I see.”
    Before he got out, Mrs. Mailer and her friend were in. I first assumed the hostile looks they exchanged were due to their competition for my house. It was no such thing! They were acquainted, and to judge by their scowls, the acquaintance was not a happy one.
    “Mrs. Mailer, Mr. Thomson,”Mr. Desmond said, with a curt bow.
    They nodded, more curtly still, but didn’t speak.
    As Mr. Desmond left, Yootha and her friend charged into the saloon, their eyes wide with indignation.
    “What is he doing here?”Mrs. Mailer demanded.
    “He’s the man who is thinking of buying our house,”I explained.
    “Mr. Maitland? No such a thing!”
    “His name is Mr. Desmond,”I said, but already I knew I had been taken in.
    “Desmond Maitland, that’s who he is,”Yootha said.
    Mama, looking all bewildered, asked, “Do you know him well?”
    “He is the agent who insured my necklace and was so unpleasant about giving me my money when it was stolen,”Yootha announced.
    “Do you mean to tell me the man is an insurance agent?”I gasped, and fell into a fit of giggles. He with his office at the Royal Exchange and his philanthropy, his fine carriage and jackets, and he was only an insurance agent. He couldn’t buy a dog kennel, let alone a house. He probably owed every merchant in town to maintain his carriage and jackets.
    “Not just any agent,”she continued. “Mr. Maitland is the man who put up the ten thousand pounds the night Graham was killed.”
    We went into the saloon, and before we were seated Mrs. Mailer presented her friend to us. It was Mr. Two Legs Thomson, her latest flirt. Besides his two legs, he had two arms, two sharp gray eyes, one head, and so on, none of them exceptional. He was white-haired and wore the sort of red nose commonly associated with a liking for wine. He had a tendency to stoutness and was in every way a gentleman in his appearance and manner.
    “Is it some sort of stunt Mr. Desmond was playing off on us in coming here?”Mama demanded.
    “Of course it was. Maitland no more plans to buy your house than I do,”Yootha exclaimed angrily. “That is..."
    “We know you aren’t interested in buying it,”I said, as she appeared to have become embarrassed at her speech. I looked with suspicious interest to decide by Two Leg’s jacket if he could afford the house.
    “He only came to see if he could find the money," Mrs. Mailer continued. She shook her head firmly at Two Legs as she spoke. “It’s here, I tell you. Right in this house, and Mr. Maitland knows it. He is probably your burglar. He associates with the worst riffraff in town.”
    “It will be a fine bonus for whoever buys the house. Perhaps Lloyd’s will give the agent a reward when it is returned,”I said, to remind Yootha what was to be done with the money. “Very likely that’s why Mr. Maitland was looking so hard.”
    “He seemed such a nice young fellow, and he was full of deceit all the time,”Mama said, surprised into plain speaking. “He told us he worked at the Royal Exchange.”
    Two Legs drew his brows together and frowned at us. “Eh? You have got it mixed up, ladies. Lloyd’s offices are at the Royal Exchange. You sound as though Maitland were some demmed clerk. It is nothing of the sort. Each Lloyd’s agent is an independent businessman—they buy a license for some enormous sum of money. They all finance their own losses. The ten thousand came out of Mr. Maitland’s pocket. They all belong to Lloyd’s, but they work on their own, take their own risks, keep their