“Shall I say 'serious impropriety'? but grievous is the right word. You say a grievous sin for a mortal sin. If we had done any wrong it would have been a grievous sin; but I'll change the word if you like.”
“No, don't change it on my account; but I think he would understand an easier word better.”
“A 'heinous impropriety'? No, that won't do. A 'serious impropriety.' That will do. Is there anything else you would like me to alter?”
“No, I don't think there is.”
“You think this letter will convince him that there was nothing wrong?”
“I hope so; but he is a very suspicious man.”
“I will post it when I go out.” Then after a long silence: “Do you know what time it is? It must be getting late.”
“It must be getting on for nine.”
“Then I must say good-bye; but I forgot, I want to ask you—you must be hard up, and want some money—do you? If you do, I assure you I shall be only too glad.”
“Well, I am rather hard up, for you know that this illness has prevented my doing anything; and I am afraid I have lost my place at the 'Tivoli.'”