"Tell her, love, that the post goes out at——"
"She knows when the post goes out. She knows better than any one else in the house, for she has told me lots of times."
"Go, now, Gwenny. Go, my dear, when I tell you."
"You'll have a handful to deal with when that young lady comes out," observed George, bringing his eyes back from the door as it slowly closed upon the reluctant figure. "Gwen's too clever by half for you, Aunt Laura; and, I say, we must both keep our eyes skinned if we are to carry through this affair. She's half suspicious as it is."
"It was your own fault, George. How could you be so foolish as to blurt out what you did before her?"
"Good Lord, I never gave her a thought. However, I'll be more careful in future. Well, now, now she's gone, what do you say? How did it go off? How did I do? Do you think—eh?"
"I did not exaggerate, did I, George?"
"Exaggerate? You did not come up to the mark. She's a ripper. And I suppose the tin's all right? There's no mistake about that? Because—well, I needn't tell you how things are with me."
"I know—of course. And of course I'd never have asked you to come and meet Leonore Stubbs unless I knew she had been left well off."
"'Well off,' only? I thought you said——"