'How thoughtful you always are for me!'
'It's not much to do for a woman one likes. But I'm sorry if I've brought too little. Here it is, anyway.'
He produced a large and well-worn pocket-book, and took from it a small envelope, which he handed to her.
'Tell me how much more you'll need,' he said, 'and I'll give it to you to-morrow. I'll put the notes between the pages of a new book and leave it at your door. He wouldn't open a package that was addressed to you from a bookseller's, would he?'
'No,' answered the lady, her expression changing a little, 'I think he draws the line at the bookseller.'
'You see, this was meant for you,' said Mr. Van Torp. 'There are your initials on it.'
She glanced at the envelope, and saw that it was marked in pencil with the letters M.L. in one corner.
'Thank you,' she said, but she did not open it.
'You'd better count the notes,' suggested the millionaire. 'I'm open to making mistakes myself.'
The lady took from the envelope a thin flat package of new Bank of England notes, folded together in four. Without separating them she glanced carelessly at the first, which was for a hundred pounds, and then counted the others by the edges. She counted four after the first, and Mr. Van Torp watched her face with evident amusement.