“Yes, yes!”
And I held out the note to him. He had earned it. And greedily he clutched it, and stowed it in his breeches pocket under his blouse.
“I heard no more; they hurried her up; the old lady had her by one arm and the duke by the other. She looked distressed—why, I know not; for I suppose”—here a sly grin spread over the fellow’s face—“that the pretty present I saw is for her.”
“It’s the property of the duke,” I said.
“But gentlemen sometimes make presents to ladies,” he suggested.
“It may be his purpose to do so. Bontet, I want to see the young lady.”
He laughed insolently, kicking his toe against the wall.
“What use, unless you have a better present, sir? But it’s nothing to me. If you can manage it, you’re welcome.”
“But how am I to manage it? Come, earn your money, and perhaps you’ll earn more.”
“You’re liberal, sir;” and he stared at me as though he were trying to look into my pocket and see how much money was there. I was glad that his glance was not so penetrating. “But I can’t help you. Stay, though. The old lady has ordered coffee for two in the sitting-room, and bids me rouse the duke when it is ready: so perhaps the young lady will be left alone for a time. If you could steal up—”