The gentleman came down incredulous, and looked over her shoulder.
“I believe they are, Sarah,” he said.
Billy leered feverishly up at him, and produced a sheaf of papers, seemingly burrowing somewhere in his internal regions to bring them forth.
“And here, d'these b'long?”
The master of the house gripped them.
“Sarah! The bonds! And the South American Shares!” They were too busy to notice Billy who stood swaying by the newel post, his duty done now, the dogs grouped about him.
“Say, c'n I get me a drink?” he asked of the butler, who hovered near uncertain what to be doing now that the tide was turned.
The lady looked up.
“Morris!”
He scarcely heard the lady's words but almost immediately a tall slim glass of frosty drink, that smelled of wild grapes, tasted of oranges, and cooled him down to the soul again, was put into his hand and he gulped it greedily.