He had made his two heaps of notes—a larger and a smaller; his hand wavered undecidedly over them.
'I can trust you to do what you said you would?' she asked suddenly.
'No less—and no more. That's an essential part of my policy,' he assured her.
'And Mrs. Trevalla is free of Glowing Stars? And you'll tell her what you promised?'
'I'll take them over, with the liability. Yes, and I'll tell her.'
He spoke rather absently; his mind seemed to be on something else. When he spoke again, there was an odd—perhaps an unprecedented—embarrassment in his manner.
'I see my way to doing something with Glowing Stars. Money must go into it—the calls must be paid—but I think some of the money might come out again.' He looked at Peggy; he saw her gloriously triumphant eyes, her cheeks flushed with the intoxication of achievement. The impulse was on him to exalt her more. 'I should have done very well if I'd bargained with you for three thousand.'
'It would have seemed almost as impossible. And you wouldn't! You wanted more than market value for your pound of flesh!'
He pushed the smaller of the two heaps that he had made across to her with a swift motion of his hand; the hand trembled a little, but his voice was hard and dry.
'Take back the extra thousand and call it square, Miss Ryle,' said he.