The solicitor changed color again. "I don't understand you."
Paul shrugged his shoulders and rose to go. "Perhaps Mr. Hurd will explain," he said, and made for the door.
Pash, with his monkey face much perplexed, sat hunched in his chair, biting his fingers. As Paul laid his hand on the knob, he called him back. "I can explain," he said nervously.
"Not to me," said Paul, coldly.
"I prefer to do so to you," said the lawyer, hurriedly.
"Why to me particularly."
"Because I don't think I have acted very well towards Miss Norman, and, as you are to marry her, you may be able to arrange—"
"To make peace I suppose you mean," burst out Beecot; "no, Mr. Pash, you have acted like a scoundrel. You left that poor girl in the lurch as soon as you found that Miss Krill was—as you thought—legally entitled to the money."
"What do you mean by hinting she isn't?"
"Because you know very well what her age is," retorted Paul. "This matter will be shifted to the bottom, Mr. Pash, by my friend Ford, and if things are as I think they are, Miss Krill won't keep that money. You know very well—"