Ralph Duncombe looked down at the letter he was writing; finished it, as if he had scarcely heard, then drew a book toward him, looked at it, and said:
"The bill isn't due. Why should Lord Auchester want to pay money before it is wanted?"
"'Ow do I know? Mad, p'raps! Anyhow, he does!"
Ralph Duncombe thought a moment, then he pushed the book from him, and looked straight at the anxious face before him.
"He cannot have the bill," he said.
Levison gasped.
"What?"
"He cannot have it. It suits me to stick by it till it is due."
"Oh, Mishter Dunkombe, sir! What's the meaning of that? What am I to say to him?"
"A mere whim on my part—perhaps," said Ralph Duncombe, coolly, impassively. "What are you to say? Say anything. Offer to lend him more money. I will take any bill he gives you. Good-morning."