"I don't do much work."
"What are all those figures?"
She smiled invitingly. He knew her curiosity, had known it ever since her childhood, when he had caught her ferreting in his writing-desk. Since that time, he had locked everything up.
"Business," he replied, "Indian business. I have to look into these figures for Uncle Daan, but it doesn't mean much work."
"Is Uncle Daan satisfied with the business?"
"Yes, he is. We shall be rich yet, dear."
"Do you think so?"
Her voice sounded greedy.
"Yes. Have no fear. I'll leave you something yet."
His voice sounded bitter.