"If that gentleman comes here to-morrow at eleven, show him up here," she said to the waiter.
"Mr. Moss, ma'am?" the waiter asked.
"Yes, Mr. Moss," she answered in a loud voice, which told the man much of her story. "Where did that piano come from?" she asked brusquely.
"Mr. Moss had it sent in," said the man.
"And my father is paying separate rent for it?" she asked.
"What's that, my dear? What's that about rent?"
"We have got this piano to pay for. It's one of Erard's. Mr. Moss has sent it, and of course we must pay till we have sent it back again. That'll do." Then the man went.
"It's my belief that he intends to get us into pecuniary difficulties. You have only got £62 left."
"But you are to have twenty shillings a day till Christmas."
"What's that?"