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a very important point.'
    'You don't have to worry about that,' she interrupted. 'This one big payment guarantees a complete loss of memory on my part.'
    'But as I said, money should be earned. Are you willing to work for it?'
    This was all a game and Hester decided to treat it as such. She shrugged gracefully and applied herself to succulent pieces of lamb and mushroom. 'Provided the work's not too arduous,' she murmured. 'I have to think of my health. What's your proposition?' she demanded. 'And you'd better make it believable, because I'm not a fool and I shan't fall for a con. There's no way I know of earning that amount of money by the weekend, but if you've come up with a bright idea, I'll consider it. I'm open to suggestions and if it's that good, I might even take it up full-time.'
    'You still cling to the time limit?' Hester once more had the feeling she was being a source of amusement to him, that he wasn't taking her seriously enough, and her voice sharpened until it gained almost the strident cockney tones of her childhood.
    'Of course, it's the done thing among us blackmailers. What's the use of a nebulous threat? It's not forceful enough.' She became aware of his frown and lowered her voice to a husky murmur. 'I work to a timetable—Mrs X this month, Mrs Y next month. I'm a deep-dyed villainess!'
    'You're a very charming liar…'
    '… And you're wasting my time,' she interrupted forcefully.
    'But aren't you ashamed of what you're doing?'
    '
Me
? Ashamed? Now why should I be that?' she marvelled at his lack of understanding. 'If somebody's willing to pay to keep their affairs quiet, it's because they're ashamed, not me! Vilma's afraid she might lose her entree to the upper circles, and having a lot of money, clothes and all the jewellery she needs doesn't mean a thing unless she can show them off in all the right places and to all the right company—go to Cannes, Nice and Monte Carlo on all the right people's yachts…'
    'But the right people, as you call them, also have their little secrets,' he pointed out. 'Nobody's without something to remind them of a mistake they once made.'
    'And I know that as well,' she retorted. 'But the right people don't abandon a child as Vilma did. Their little bastards exist, but generally there's some responsibility shown for them. There's money for their clothes and education. If you had a come-by-chance child, you'd take a bit of interest in it, wouldn't you?'
    'I do!' Demetrios laid down his fork and looked into her shocked eyes. 'That's part of my proposition. I'm offering a home, a wedding ring, a life free from monetary worries together with twenty thousand pounds, the sum you're demanding, but in return I shall expect to get a stepmother for my own—er— "adopted" daughter. I've chosen you because you evidently want the money and I think you might have an empathy with the child, a common bond of sympathy, feeling as strongly as you do.' He paused as though considering what to say next, ignoring Hester's open mouth and stunned expression.
    She recovered quickly. 'Not on!' The surprising thing was that she believed him, but she played for time. 'I told you, it has to be Vilma's money. Yours won't do.'
    'Oh, it will be,' he assured her, and his smile wasn't pleasant. 'You could say that I'm the paymaster of the company, so Vilma won't get her annual and usual allowance this year and since she won't be able to complain to her husband—who, by the way is my uncle—she'll have to make up the deficit out of her own pocket, won't she?'
    'Her husband allows her twenty thousand pounds a year?' Hester almost gulped for breath. To her, it was all the wealth of the Indies, and she couldn't bring herself to believe that one person could spend that amount of money in just twelve months.
    'No,' Demetrios was unmoved. 'But she already owes some considerable sums; furs, jewellery, clothes and so forth which I would have paid for her. After all, it would be bad for the company image to