“Oh, God!” groaned Kenneth. “I can't bear it!”
“I call that very unreasonable,” said Roger. “Ater all, they weren't your clothes. If I started putting your shirts up the spout you'd have a perfect right to complain. It's coming to something if I can't pop my own belongings. Moreover, if I inherit all Arnold's money I shall be able to buy a lot of new clothes, and no harm done. But don't run away with the idea that I particularly want to stay with you, because I don't at all mind putting up at a hotel as long as I've got some money. Supposing you were to lend me a few pounds - say fifty - to tide me over?”
“Let's pretend!” said Kenneth sarcastically. “You've never paid a debt in your life!”
“That's perfectly true,” agreed Roger, with unimpaired affability, “but I wouldn't mind paying you back if I had two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
“Well, I won't take the risk,” replied Kenneth. “Go and touch Giles. You won't get anything out of me.”
At this moment the door opened to admit Murgatroyd, who came in to clear away the tea. Antonia said gloomily: “Look what's happened, Murgatroyd. Isn't it damnable?”
Murgatroyd started to say: “How many times have I told you I won't have you use such -” Then she caught sight of Roger, and gave a scream.
“Hullo, Murgatroyd!” said Roger, with his sleepy, apologetic smile. “You still alive?”
Murgatroyd seemed to find difficulty in speaking. She swallowed once or twice, and in the end said in a hollow voice: “I knew it. You ask Miss Leslie if I didn't see bad news in my teacup yesterday, plain as plain. Mark my words, I said, something awful is on its way to this house.”
“A lot of people scoff at reading fortunes in teacups,” said Roger, interested. “I've always thought there was something in it myself. It just shows. You haven't changed much. Fatter, of course, but I should have known you anywhere.”