“I hear she has raided you of all you possess. Six pounds odd.”
“Seven pounds four and sixpence,” corrected Aymer. “I should like the correct sum printed in good plain figures on your list, Renata. Being my all, it is a superior present to more pretentious donations.”
“Six pounds four and sixpence, however,” persisted Nevil.
Aymer looked up quickly.
“Did you count it?”
Nevil nodded.
“It must have dropped,” said Aymer slowly. “I’ll send it you with the interest, Renata.”
But he knew it had not been dropped.
Mr. Aston began telling them of a deputation from the Friends of the Canine Race he had received that day, and no more was said on the other matter.