“What a bore!” said Kenneth. “How long is that likely to take?”
“Not very long, I hope. How much do you want?”
“Would three hundred break you?” asked Kenneth persuasively.
“I can just stand it. I'll make out a cheque for that amount now, and you can write a formal receipt while I'm doing it.”
In the middle of this labour Antonia came back into the room and announced that Rudolph had gone.
“Well, that's one good thing, anyway,” remarked Kenneth. “Still adhering to his story?”
“He swears it's perfectly true.”
“He'd better go and swear it to old Hannasyde and see how he takes it. You've got to have faith to swallow a chestnut like that.”
“I must say I thought it was pretty fatuous myself,” admitted Antonia. “I didn't like to pour much more scorn on it, though, because he was a trifle ruffled. The trouble is, he doesn't altogether understand us when we speak, Kenneth.”
Giles looked up, half smiling. “Rather a grave disadvantage in a life-partner, Tony.”