“Moral deterioration has set in already,” he remarked. “When he pays his bills with my money, he will lose the little he has left of his self-respect.”
Aynesworth turned abruptly away. He was strongly tempted to say things which would have ended his connection with Wingrave, and as yet he was not ready to leave. For the sake of a digression, he took up a check book from the table.
“There are three checks,” he remarked, “which I cannot trace. One for ten thousand pounds, another for five, and a third for a thousand pounds. What account shall I put them to?”
“Private drawing account,” Wingrave answered. “They represent a small speculation. By the bye, you’d better go and ring up Walters.”
“Do you wish the particulars entered in your sundry investment book?” Aynesworth asked.
Wingrave smiled grimly.
“I think not,” he answered. “You can put them to drawing account. If you want me again this evening, I shall dine at the Cafe Royal at eight o’clock, and shall return here at five minutes to nine.”
. . . . . . . . . . .
Lady Ruth was punctual. At a few minutes past nine, Morrison announced that a lady had called to see Mr. Wingrave by appointment.
“You can show her in,” Wingrave said. “See that we are not disturbed.”