"I understand this--that I'm going to move heaven and earth to get that cash of Wyke's which ought to come to you," said Lemby, sullenly; "and whether I get it or not, I've got to get out of this country, and you too."
"Why have you to get out?" asked Claudia, stuck by the queer expression on her father's florid face.
Lemby shuffled and twisted, evading a direct answer. "I ain't got any dibs, for one thing. I told you so."
"But if you get this money of Sir Hector's?" asked the girl, trying to arrive at his meaning, for she saw that there was something behind his speech.
"I'll go, all the same." Lemby looked at the carpet and scowled.
"But why?"
"Because I choose to. That's why," he burst out furiously.
"Now, dad"--Claudia held up a warning hand--"we have had one scene, so don't let us have another. You won't succeed in getting your way with me."
"You are an ungrateful minx!"
"Oh" Claudia sat down with a careless shrug--"call me as many names as you like. That matters little. But don't go too far."