"What money?" asked Sibylla.
She had been sitting by the fire, but rose now, and leant her shoulder against the mantelpiece.
Jeremy looked from her to Grantley.
"I'm most awfully sorry. I forgot. I'm a bit beside myself, you know." Grantley shrugged his shoulders rather crossly. "I won't say another word about it."
"Oh, yes, you will, Jeremy," observed Sibylla with a dangerous look. "You'll tell me all about it this moment, please."
"Shall I?" Jeremy turned to Grantley again.
"I expect the mischief's done now; but you needn't have lost your memory or your wits just because you're going to marry Eva Raymore."
"Marrying does make people lose their wits sometimes," said Sibylla coldly. Grantley's brows lifted a little as he plumped down in a chair with a resigned air. "Tell me what you mean, Jeremy."
"Well, I had to put money into the business if I was ever to be more than a clerk—if I was ever to get a partnership, you know."
"And Grantley gave you the money?"