It was admirably done—the hint cleverly conveyed, the mild amazement. Warde smiled grimly. Scaife understood, and took his cue.
"Yes; I have lent him money," said he, after a slight pause.
"Twenty pounds?"
"I believe, sir, that is the amount."
"And can you offer me any explanation why Beaumont-Greene, whose father, to my knowledge, has always given him a very large allowance, should borrow thirty pounds of you two?"
"I haven't the smallest idea, have you, Lovell?"
"No," said Lovell. "Unless his younger brother, who is at Eton, has got into trouble. He's very fond of his brothers."
"Um! You speak up for your—friend."
Lovell frowned. "A friend, sir—no."
"Of course," said Warde, reflectively, "if it is true that Beaumont-Greene borrowed this money to help a brother——"