"But I don't owe him anything."
"You wrote to him at Monte Carlo, and asked him for a hundred pounds. What did you want that for?"
"To complete the purchase of the yacht for Gwendolen. I wanted to give it to her absolutely unencumbered. Mr. Tracy was selling some capital for me and said I must wait till the following settling day for the cash, and I asked Melville to lend me the hundred I needed until the matter was completed. But he didn't send it. He never even answered my letter."
"He tells me he sent you a hundred pounds in notes," Sir Geoffrey said distinctly. "Isn't that true?"
"No," said Ralph indignantly; "it's an absolute lie." He paced the room in angry impatience. It seemed incredible that his own brother could be capable of such an utterly unworthy trick. Sir Geoffrey closed his book with a snap and pressed his lips together.
"I ought to have known you both better," he said; "but Melville's story was so circumstantial, and there was the evidence of your letter, too. I was completely taken in. But now I know what to do."
Ralph stopped abruptly.
"What are you going to do?" he asked.
"Instruct Tracy to take proceedings against Melville for getting money under false pretences."
"But that's punishable with imprisonment," said Ralph aghast.