The old man scowled in silence for a moment.
"I have no one I dare trust but you," he unwillingly said.

"You know something of my position, my future.

I want to know if you have ever met this woman who has taken the Silver Bungalow--a kind of a French woman.
There's her card." Old Johnstone's haggard eyes followed Hawke, as he silently studied the bit of pasteboard.
"Madams Berthe Louison," he gravely read.

And, then, with a magnificent audacity, he lied successfully.

"Never even heard the name," he murmured.
"Fellows at the Club speaking of some such woman today.