She made a quick, involuntary movement, and her hands slipped from his.
"Not see him again!" she repeated, staring at him with wide eyes. "Not see him again!"
"I think it would be wiser not," he said, very kindly. "It would only cause you unnecessary pain."
She uttered a sudden breathless little laugh. "Trevor—am I dreaming?
Or—are you mad? You don't—actually—believe he did this thing?"
His face hardened a little. "He had the sense not to attempt to deny it. There was no question as to his guilt. He was the only person besides myself who had access to my cheque-book."
"But—" Chris said, and paused, as if to collect her thoughts. "How much was taken?" she asked after a moment.
"That," Mordaunt observed, "is the least important part of the whole miserable business."
"Still, tell me," she persisted.
"He took five hundred pounds."
"Trevor!" She gasped for breath, and turned so white that he thought for a moment she would faint.