“I'll try and not give him this chance, then,” said he, laughing. “Remember,” added he, “I'm promising to cross the Channel, and I have not a pound in my pocket.”
“Write that, and I 'll go fetch you the money,” said she, leaving the room; and, passing out through the hall and the front door, she put her arm and hand into a large marble vase, several of which stood on the terrace, and drew forth the pocket-book which Sir Brook had given her, and which she had secretly deposited there as she entered the house.
“There, that's done,” said he, handing her his note as she came in.
“Put it in an envelope and address it. And now, where are you to find Harding, or whoever you mean to take with you?”
“That's easy enough; they 'll be at supper at the Club by this time. I'll go in at once. But the money?”
“Here it is. I have not counted it; he gave me the pocket-book as you see.”
“There's more than he said. There are two hundred and eighty-five pounds. He must be in funds.”
“Don't lose time. It is very late already,—nigh two o'clock; these men will have left the Club, possibly?”
“No, no; they play on till daybreak. I suppose I'd better put my traps in a portmanteau at once, and not require to come back here.”
“I 'll do all that for you.”