“Yes, I do.”
“Now Lucy says it’s all a matter o’ money, I don’t mean matrimony; for goodness sake don’t repeat that stupid jest. But I’ve had a long talk with Lucy, and she says it will cost Tom and Ben, that’s Lucy’s father, you know, heaps and heaps of money to fight the case to the end, and that’s just what they haven’t got. You’re the blood-sucker, I suppose?”
“Yes, Miss Tinker, I’m afraid I’m one of them—for Lizzie’s sake, of course.”
Dorothy looked sharply at Mr. Sykes, and there was a slight flush of colour on her cheek as she repeated “Oh, yes, for Lizzie’s sake, of course.” Was it possible that this very sedate young man could guess beyond his brief?
“Now I’ve got some money; at least I suppose so; though I’ve never seen it. But I’ve always understood my poor father that I don’t remember, made a will, and I was the only child. Now you must get to know all about that, and Mr. Pinder and Ben are not to go to the wall for want of money. Do you understand that?”
“But am I really to understand, Miss Tinker, that you propose to spend your money in helping my clients in fighting your own uncle?”
“I don’t care if he’s twenty times my uncle, though once time once is enough, thank you. But if he’s mean enough to try to ruin Ben Garside—”
“And Mr. Pinder?” put in the lawyer, quite casually.
“And I thought this lawyer stupid,” thought Dorothy, but ignored the interruption.
“Then I’m mean enough to fight him with his own weapons, uncle or no uncle.”