“Money and guns! Guns and money! Confess with me, brethren, that we're glad of metal.”
John stared and Stanley drank off his whiskey and potash. Felix really was a bit 'too thick' sometimes. Then Stanley said:
“Wonder what Tod thinks of it all. Will you go over, Felix, and advise that our young friends be more considerate to these poor beggars?”
Felix nodded. And with 'Good night, old man' all round, and no shaking of the hands, the three brothers dispersed.
But behind Felix, as he opened his bedroom door, a voice whispered:
“Dad!” And there, in the doorway of the adjoining room, was Nedda in her dressing-gown.
“Do come in for a minute. I've been waiting up. You ARE late.”
Felix followed her into her room. The pleasure he would once have had in this midnight conspiracy was superseded now, and he stood blinking at her gravely. In that blue gown, with her dark hair falling on its lace collar and her face so round and childish, she seemed more than ever to have defrauded him. Hooking her arm in his, she drew him to the window; and Felix thought: 'She just wants to talk to me about Derek. Dog in the manger that I am! Here goes to be decent!' So he said:
“Well, my dear?”
Nedda pressed his hand with a little coaxing squeeze.