"Yes."
Rupert whizzed round on his heels, and faced him. "Sounds rather—eccentric," he suggested.
Mordaunt smiled in his quiet, detached way. "I can afford to be eccentric," he said. "And now look here, Wyndham. You said something just now about having to wait a year to fix things up. I don't see the necessity for that, situated as we are. Since you are willing that I should buy Kellerton Old Park, and since we are agreed upon the price, I see no reason to delay payment. I will write you a cheque for your share to-night."
"What?" said Rupert.
He stood up very straight, staring at the man before him as if he were an entirely novel specimen of the human race.
"Is it a joke?" he asked at length.
Mordaunt flicked the ash from his cigarette without looking at him.
Perhaps he felt that he had studied him long enough.
"No," he said. "I don't see any point in jokes of that sort. Of course, I know it's not business, but the arrangement is entirely between ourselves. I don't see why even Murchison should be let into it. We can settle it later without taking him into our confidence."
"It's a loan, then?" said Rupert quickly.
"If you like to call it so."