Chapter Twelve.
Concerning Two Claimants.
“Well, Delia, how much was it?” was Bob’s first greeting.
“A thousand pounds.”
The effect of this announcement was electrical and diverse. Old Calmour dropped his knife and fork—they were at table—and stared. Even Clytie could not repress a gasp; while as for Bob, he hoorayed aloud.
“Then Wagram has stumped up! Did he send it straight to you?”
“Look! There’s the cheque,” holding it up.
“Phew!” whistled Bob. “It ought to have come to you through our people, though.”