"No, no, my usual shilling, my usual shilling," laughed the other.
* * * * *
Morris set Mr. Taynton down at his office, and by way of settling their wager at once, waited at the door, while the other went upstairs to see if his partner was there. He had not, however, appeared there that day, and Mr. Taynton sent a clerk down to Morris, to ask him to come up, and they would ring up Mr. Mills's flat on the telephone.
This was done, and before many seconds had elapsed they were in communication. His valet was there, still waiting for his master's return, for he had not yet come back. It appeared that he was getting rather anxious, for Mr. Taynton reassured him.
"There is not the slightest cause for any anxiety," were his concluding words. "I feel convinced he has merely been detained. Thanks, that's all. Please let me know as soon as he returns."
He drew a shilling from his pocket, and handed it to Morris. But his face, in spite of his reassuring words, was a little troubled. You would have said that though he might not yet be anxious, he saw that there was some possibility of his being so, before very long. Yet he spoke gaily enough.
"And I made so sure I should win," he said. "I shall put it down to unexpected losses, not connected with business; eh, Mr. Timmins? Or shall it be charity? It would never do to put down 'Betting losses.'"
But this was plainly a little forced, and Morris waited till Mr. Timmins had gone out.
"And you really meant that?" he asked. "You are really not anxious?"
"No, I am not anxious," he said, "but—but I shall be glad when he comes back. Is that inconsistent? I think perhaps it is. Well, let us say then that I am just a shade anxious. But I may add that I feel sure my anxiety is quite unnecessary. That defines it for you."