“That when anyone is by himself and talking aloud, he is holding a conversation with—there I won’t say whom.”
“Pish!” ejaculated Barclay angrily. “There, sit down, woman, and make an entry about Lady Drelincourt’s diamonds and the money I’ve lent on them. Set ’em down in the jewel book and then lock them up in the case. It wouldn’t do to lose them.”
“Like her sister’s were lost,” said Mrs Barclay. “I wonder what became of them, Jo-si-ah.”
She opened the case, examined the jewels, and then opened a cabinet and an iron safe within, where she deposited the valuables, afterwards making an entry in a book kept for the purpose, and another in the big ledger.
“That’s done,” she said with a sigh of content. “Why, Jo-si-ah, what a rich man you are getting.”
“Stuff! Don’t talk nonsense.”
“I say, dear,” she said, “I wonder how it is that Claire Denville hasn’t been here for so long. It seems strange. Here’s somebody else.”
The visitors proved to be Sir Harry Payne with Sir Matthew Bray, Mrs Barclay hurrying out to leave them with her husband.
“Well, gentlemen?” said Barclay drily.
“No, Barclay, it isn’t well,” cried Sir Harry, “nor will it be till I’ve got a couple of hundred pounds out of you.”