"I don't see why he should. I'll see Mr. Clarke and sweep away his objections. I can do that, seeing he is in my debt to the tune of one thousand odd pounds. Well, then, will you come and live with me in London, or marry Prudence, and get the money?"
Ferdy shuffled. "If I do neither?"
"I have already said what I would do. You can't live without money."
"Dr. Jerce will look after me," blurted out Ferdy, significantly. Clarice shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps. He has the name of being a philanthropist. But I should like to know if there is any chance of Jerce threatening me through you?"
"What rubbish. Of course not."
"I am not so certain," said Clarice, dryly, and striving to read the weak, handsome face before her. "Jerce is deeply in love with me, and would give much to stop my marriage. He hinted as much. Now, I know that he cannot hurt Anthony, or me, as both our lives are above reproach. The sole trouble in my life is the death of Uncle Henry, and the inquest has explained that. The motive for the crime undoubtedly is robbery."
"You believe that?"
"After what Mr. Barras explained, I do, although," added Clarice, in a thoughtful manner, "I never would have taken Uncle Henry to be a miser. Chalks might know something about that money, if Uncle Henry really had it concealed in his room. I'll speak to him. However, you can see that there is no reason why I should be afraid of Dr. Jerce. Now, is there any reason why you should fear him?"
"No," said Ferdy, earnestly, and, turning a frank face to his sister, "I have been reckless and fast. Jerce has helped me with money, and I have run up bills for motor-cars, and suppers, and tailors, and flowers, and such-like things. But if you will pay these bills, Jerce can say nothing against me."
"How much do the bills amount to?"