“Over a hundred thousand.”
“Dollars?”
“No, pounds—four hundred thousand dollars.”
“Got ’em still?”
“Yes.”
“In the bank?”
“Some; the rest is invested.”
She seemed to lose interest in the money business and hung for a moment over the rail, whistling almost noiselessly between her teeth and kicking up a bare heel. Then she said:
“Who’s the chap you were sailin’ with?”
“Skelton is his name.”