"Twenty," said the other, "and two secret doors—I beg your pardon, three. Twenty-six bob, Harry. Stump up."
Harry raised a malevolent face for a moment, and finished his column.
"Any skeletons?" he asked, with pungency.
"No; no skeletons. Will you come and see it now?"
Harry sprang up.
"Look here, Geoff, are you playing the fool?" he said. "If so, are you prepared to die?"
"Neither," said Geoffrey, "but don't let me interrupt you. Better get on with your work; the passage won't run away."
"Nor will the work. I wish it would. Do you really mean it, Geoff? There is a holy awe about your face."
"Come and see," said Geoffrey.