“Not quite. The deficit.”
“If, as you say, there is a deficit, it must remain. There is enough.”
“But my late client would not have rested till it was put straight.”
“No,” said Claude dreamily; “but my father may have had some project of which we are ignorant. We had better wait. You will stay with us a few days longer?”
“I should say no,” replied Trevithick; “but I cannot conscientiously leave these premises till this money is safe. Till then, my dear madam, I am your guest.”
Claude would have spoken again, but the look she cast round the study brought up such a flood of painful memories that she could only make a sign to Mary to follow, as she hurried from the room.
“A woman any man might love,” said the lawyer, as soon as he was alone. “I hope no money-hunting scoundrel will catch her up. No; she is too strong-minded and firm. Now, what have I done to offend little Mary?” he added, with a sigh. “Bless her, I don’t get along with her as I could wish.”
He was quiet and thoughtful for a few moments, and then began tapping the table.
“Gartram had that forty—one thousand. His books say so, and he was correct as an actuary. Some one knew the secret of this room, and got at that cash.”
“Yes. I should like to find that out. It would please little Mary, too.”