‘Well, if anything happens to me,’ responded Sophy cheerfully, ‘I shall give a loud scream, and you may come in and rescue me. I shall not, I think, keep you waiting for very long.’
She then picked her way through the kennel, and entered the house which had been pointed out to her. The door stood open, and a flight of uncarpeted stairs lay at the end of a short passage. She went up them, and found herself on a small landing. Two doors gave on to this, so she knocked on them both, in an imperative way. There was a pause, and she had an unpleasant feeling that she was being watched. She looked round, but there was no one in sight, and it was only when she turned her head again that she saw that an unmistakable eye was regarding her through a small hole in one of the panels of the door at the back of the house. It disappeared instantly, there was the sound of a key turning in a lock, and the door was slowly opened to reveal a thin, swarthy individual with long greasy curls, a semitic nose, and an ingratiating leer. He was dressed in a suit of rusty black, and nothing about him suggested sufficient affluence to lend as much as five hundred pence to anyone. His hooded eyes rapidly took in every detail of Sophy’s appearance, from the curled feathers in her high-crowned hat to the neat kid boots upon her feet.
‘Good-morning!’ said Sophy. ‘Are you Mr Goldhanger?’
He stood, a little bent, before her, wiping his hands together. ‘And what would you be wanting with Mr Goldhanger, my lady?’ he asked.
‘I have business with him,’ replied Sophy. ‘So if you are he please do not keep me standing in this dirty passage any longer! I cannot conceive why you do not at least sweep the floor!’
Mr Goldhanger was considerably taken aback, a thing that had not happened to him for a very long time. He was accustomed to receiving all sorts and conditions of visitors, from furtive persons who stole into the house under cover of darkness and spilled strange wares upon the desk under the light of one oil lamp, to haggard-eyed young men of fashion seeking relief fromtheir immediate obligations, but never before had he opened his door to a self-possessed young lady who took him to task for not sweeping the floors.
‘I wish you will stop staring at me in that foolish way!’ said Sophy. ‘You have already peered at me through that hole in the door, and you must by now have convinced yourself that I am not a law-officer in disguise.’
Mr Goldhanger protested. The insinuation that he would not welcome a visit from a law-officer seemed to wound him. However, he stood back to allow Sophy to enter the room, and invited her to take a chair on one side of the large desk which occupied the centre of the floor.
‘Yes, but I shall be obliged to you if you will first dust it,’ she said.
Mr Goldhanger performed this office with one of his long coat-tails. He heard the key grate behind him, and turned sharply to see his visitor removing it from the lock.
‘You won’t object to my locking the door, I daresay,’ said Sophy. ‘I don’t in the least desire to be interrupted by any of your acquaintances, you see. And since I should much dislike to be spied on you will permit me to stuff my handkerchief into that peephole of yours.’ She removed one hand from her large swans-down muff as she spoke, and poked a corner of her handkerchief into the hole.
Mr Goldhanger had the oddest feeling that the world had begun to revolve in reverse. For years he had taken care never to get into any situation he was unable to command, and his visitors were more in the habit of pleading with him than of locking the door, and ordering him to dust the furniture. He could see no particular harm in allowing Sophy to retain the key, for although she was a large young woman he had no doubt of being able to wrest it from her, should such a need arise. The instinct of his race made him prefer, whenever possible, to maintain a manner of the utmost urbanity, so he now smiled, and bowed, and said that my lady was welcome to do what she pleased in his humble abode. He then betook himself to the chair on the other side ofthe desk, and asked what he might have the honour of doing for her.
‘I have come on a very simple matter,’ responded Sophy. ‘It is merely to recover from you Mr Hubert Rivenhall’s bond, and the emerald ring given you as a pledge.’
‘That,’ said Mr Goldhanger, smiling more ingratiatingly than ever, ‘is indeed a simple matter. I shall be delighted to oblige you, my lady. I need not ask whether you have brought with you the funds, for I am sure such a business-like young lady –’
‘Now, that is excellent!’ interrupted Sophy cordially. ‘I find that so many persons imagine that if one is a female one has no head for business, and that, of course, leads to a sad waste of time. I must tell you at once that when you lent five hundred pounds to Mr Rivenhall you lent money to a minor. I expect I need not explain to you whatthatmeans.’
She smiled in the most friendly way as she spoke these words, and Mr Goldhanger smiled back at her, and said softly: ‘What a well-informed young lady, to be sure! If I sued Mr Rivenhall for my money I could not recover it. But I do not think Mr Rivenhall would like me to sue him for it.’
‘Of course he would not,’ Sophy agreed. ‘Moreover, although it was extremely wrong of you to have lent him any money, it seems unjust that you should not at least recover the principal.’
‘Most unjust,’ said Mr Goldhanger. ‘There is also a little matter of the interest, my lady.’
Sophy shook her head. ‘No, I shan’t pay you a penny in interest, which may perhaps teach you a lesson to be more careful in future. I have with me five hundred pounds in bills, and when you have handed me the bond and the ring I will give them to you.’
Mr Goldhanger could not help laughing a little at this, for although he had not very much sense of humour he could not but be tickled at the thought that he would forgo his interest at the command of a young lady. ‘I think I prefer to keep the bond and the ring,’ he said.
‘I expect you would prefer it,’ said Sophy.
‘You should consider, my lady, that I could do Mr Rivenhall a great deal of harm,’ Mr Goldhanger pointed out. ‘He is up at Oxford, isn’t he? Yes, I don’t think they would be pleased there if they knew of his little transaction with me. Or –’
‘They would not be at all pleased,’ said Sophy. ‘It would be a trifle awkward for you, though, would it not? But perhaps you could persuade them that you had no notion that Mr Rivenhall was under age.’
‘Such a clever young lady!’ smiled Mr Goldhanger.
‘No, but I have a great deal of common-sense, which tells me that if you refuse to give up the bond and the ring the best course for me to pursue would be to drive at once to Bow Street and lay the whole matter before the magistrate there.’
The smile faded: Mr Goldhanger watched her through narrowed eyelids. ‘I don’t think you would be wise to do that,’ he said.
‘Don’t you? Well, I think it is the wisest thing I could possibly do, and I have a strong feeling that they would like to have news of you in Bow Street.’
Mr Goldhanger shared this feeling. But he did not believe that Sophy meant what she said, his clients having the most providential dislike to publicity. He said: ‘I think my Lord Ombersley would prefer to pay me my money.’
‘I daresay he would, and that is why I have told him nothing about it, for I think it nonsensical to be blackmailed by such a creature as you, all for the want of a little courage!’
This unprecedented point of view began to engender in Mr Goldhanger a dislike for his guest. Women, he knew, were unpredictable. He leaned forward in his chair, and tried to explain to her some of the more disagreeable consequences that would befall Mr Rivenhall if he repudiated any part of his debt. He spoke well, and it was a sinister little speech that seldom failed to impress his hearers. It failed today.
