“Don’t you ever feel afraid of being robbed of that watch, Mr Harrington?” said the old lawyer. “It must have cost a hundred.”
“The sum exactly with the nugget chain,” said the young man sharply. “No, I never feel afraid of being robbed. I could afford it, though, if I were.”
“Yes, yes; of course—of course.”
“Come into the study. I want a chat with you.”
“About more money,” muttered the lawyer, as he followed the young man down the passage to the library-like room opening upon the garden.
Here the first thing the host did was to open the window, look out for a few moments at the soft dark night, and then draw to and fasten the outer shutters, after which he closed the window.
“You know what I want, of course,” he said shortly.
“Yes, sir; I presume it is money.”
“Well, it’s my money, isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes; of course; but if you would allow me—”