The marquis shrugged his shoulders.
“Parkins will tell you,” he said, carelessly. “You mean to go, then?”
“Yes,” said Lord Cecil.
The marquis laughed.
“Will you kindly give me that despatch box?” he said.
Lord Cecil brought it to him, and the marquis took out some papers.
“Here are the papers,” he said, languidly. “I haven’t read them all; you can bore yourself over them in the train. And will you favor me by accepting this toward the expenses,” and he laid a roll of uncounted notes on the table.
Cecil took them up and examined them.
“There is more than enough here,” he said, quietly.
“There is never more than enough money,” said the marquis. “If you think there is too much, you can distribute the surplus among the poor people with whom you sympathize.”