'A lot more?'
Tommy spread out his hands and shrugged his shoulders. She knew all that mattered; it was merely etiquette that forbade an exact statement of figures; the essential harm was done.
'Well, you said you wanted something of me, Tommy.'
'I do. I want your word of honour that you'll never let Airey Newton know that you've found out anything about this.' He put his cigarette back into his mouth and smiled amicably at Peggy.
'I'm going straight to him to tell him I know it all. After that I sha'n't go any more.'
'Peggy, he's very fond of you. He'll hate your knowing, more than anybody else's in the world almost.'
'I shall tell him you're not to blame, of course.'
'I wasn't thinking of that. He's been very kind to you. There was always bread-and-butter!'
This particular appeal miscarried; a subtlety of resentment centred on the bread-and-butter.
'I hate to think of it,' said Peggy brusquely. 'Do you really mean I'm to say nothing?'