"I cannot; I do not know of anything that will assist you," sullenly
returned Mrs. Montague, who was mentally reproaching herself in the most
bitter manner for having allowed herself to be taken so unawares and to
betray so much.

"Whom did the lady marry?" persisted Mr. Corbin.

"I will not tell you!" passionately exclaimed his companion. "Oh, why
have I told you anything? Why did I acknowledge that I even knew Mona
Forester? I should not have done so, but you surprised the truth from me,
and I will tell you nothing more. I hated the girl, and though I have
never seen her, I hate the child on her account, and I would not lift
even a finger to help her in any way."

"Are you not unreasonably vindictive, Mrs. Montague?" mildly asked Mr.
Corbin.

"Unreasonable or not, I mean what I say, and Homer Forester's money may
be scattered to the four winds of heaven for any effort that I will make
for Mona Forester's child," was the dogged response.

"Do you not see that I must learn the truth?" the lawyer asked, with some
sternness, "and though I am averse to using threats to a lady, if you
will not tell me voluntarily I shall be obliged to use means to compel
you to reveal what you know."

"Compel me!" repeated Mrs. Montague, confronting him with haughty mien.
"You cannot do that."