“Not a brass farthing. Have you heard from your people at Rome?”
“Yes, I got a letter from Kitty last night.”
“Well?”
“Oh, nothing particular. Oliver’s there. I say, there must be something he could explain if one saw him. He couldn’t have the brass!”
“Does Miss Masters mention anyone else?”
“No, I don’t think she does.”
“Not—the Leytons?”
“Didn’t notice it. Are you going down to Worthing again?”
“Yes, I am. To-morrow perhaps,” said with gloom on Ibbetson’s part.
The visit to Worthing, when it did take place, had one or two results. For Jack found Smith so unmistakably worse that he went to the point of getting him to sign a declaration in the presence of one or two witnesses, as to that matter of the fifty pounds. And this being done, he had a conversation with the man Elias Brooks, also in the presence of a witness, so that he felt himself in a better position to meet Oliver Trent should it ever be necessary. But as yet he had made no sign.