"My dear Mrs. Tressilian," exploded Mr. Hirsch in his strident voice, "I am overwhelmed, but when one gets to talking about money----"
"There is always the devil to pay, Hirsch," put in Ned.
"Ah! my dear Blackborough, wie gehts. What an entrancing place. Why don't you buy it?"
"It is not for sale," replied Ned, "and it's quite enough to hire it, I assure you, Hirsch."
Mr. Hirsch laughed in his loud unfettered fashion.
"Ah! my dear Blackborough, you always pay too much for everything. You are the sellers' natural prey."
Aura who had helped herself out of another silver dish to something which the butler called fraises a la creme en caisses, because it looked to her like strawberries and cream, gave a quick glance at Ned.
Paid for; yes, of course, everything must have been paid for. In an instant all her pleasure became transmuted to gold. The very strawberries--strawberries at Christmas! What must they not have cost? And they had been got for her. She felt, hotly, as if she were being bribed.
"If you will finish your lunch," came Ned's voice in an undertone, "we can start back as soon afterwards as you choose. Yes! Hirsch," he added out loud, "I know I'm done all round. But it amuses people, and it doesn't hurt me. The only use of money is to get rid of it."
"I never, Mrs. Tressilian," protested Lady Smith-Biggs plaintively, "quite understand what your cousin means."