"Oh," said Pash, coolly, "have you come to reproach me with that?"
"I never waste time," rejoined Paul, equally coolly. "I'll leave you to your conscience."
Pash shrugged his shoulders and put his feet on the rungs of his chair. "I think my conscience can stand that," he said; "it's business, Mr. Beecot, business. By the way, I have received a request from Mr. Ford of Cheapside to produce the certificate of birth of Miss Krill. What is the meaning of that?"
"I think you know very well, Mr. Pash."
"I profess my ignorance," said Pash, ironically, although he looked uneasy, and was apparently lying.
"In that case you had better wait till you hear from Mr. Ford."
"Are you employing Mr. Ford, may I ask?"
Paul nodded. "On behalf of Miss Norman," said he, coldly.
"Ah," sneered the monkey, "you think you'll get the money."
"Wait till you hear from Mr. Ford," retorted Paul again, and enjoyed the baffled expression on Mr. Pash's wrinkled face. "By the way, sir, why did you not tell Hurd that Tray gave you the opal brooch?"