Brett shook his head regretfully.
“I never made any bargain to give them to—you, even though you have condescended to honour the Sphinx with your presence to-night,” he said.
Cara approached the table.
“No. I didn’t expect them in return for that,” she replied. “I’m proposing to give you the usual return for notes of hand—payment of the amount owing.”
To make this proposal had been her intention when she had first suggested to Ann that she should take her place as Forrester’s guest. She had not dared to offer the necessary money as an outright loan, realising that the girl would have refused it on Tony’s behalf peremptorily, so she had inwardly resolved to redeem the bills Brett held without consulting her.
She opened a small, ivory-mounted wrist-bag she carried, and withdrew a bundle of crisp Bank of England notes.
“I think the sum owing is twelve hundred,” she said composedly. “There’s the money. Will you count it, please, and let me have the bills Tony has given you.”
Brett stood quietly looking down at the small heap of notes, but he made no effort to pick them up.
“I’d forgotten you were a wealthy woman,” he remarked contemplatively.
Cara laughed rather bitterly.