"It is perfectly good. I'll love you ever so much if you will do it."
"What is it?"
"I am going out this evening. I may not be in until late. If the others are in bed, will you come and unlock the door for me when I throw gravel up at your window? You must tell me which is your window."
"I sleep in the north attic. It doesn't look out on to the street; and I can't—I can't possibly do it."
"You can come down and wait for me in the hall."
"How can I?"
"When the tired one goes to bed, you can come down. She goes to bed at ten, I know, and I shall not be in until about half-past ten. I don't want Dave to know—well, because I don't. I don't want Alice to know, because I dislike Alice very much."
"Really, Kathleen, you ought not to speak like that."
"Well, I do, and I can't help myself. Will you do what I want? Here, do you think you'd like this in your possession?"
As Kathleen spoke she held out a golden sovereign in the palm of her little hand.