“Two fifty, my lord, as you are so old a friend.”
“Two hundred—in an instant. Yes, or no?”
“Well, yes, my lord.”
“Give me another pinch of snuff, Barclay, and hold the pearls in your hand. Never mind the case. Thanks, that will do. Come for the money in the morning.”
The exchange was ingeniously effected, but Colonel Mellersh saw it, and his lips tightened as he glanced at Richard Linnell.
“He’s got the pearls, old woman,” said Barclay, going back to his wife where she sat fanning herself, and alone.
“How much?”
“Two hundred guineas.”
“Let’s see; you gave the Hon. Mrs Bedam fifty for ’em, didn’t you, Josiah?”
“Yes; but they’re worth a hundred, honestly.”