"Will that cost you seventeen thousand pounds?"
"Yes, it will. But I don't mind—it's quite a likely gamble. Have you ever heard of Greville Howard?"
"You mean the great money-lender?"
"He's retired now. But Pavely and he seem to be in a kind of secret partnership—queer isn't it? Pavely's a clever chap about money, but oh, mother! he's such an insufferable cad!"
Mrs. Tropenell felt a sudden tremor of fear sweep over her. She had lately come to what she now realised was a quite wrong conclusion—she had believed, that is, that Oliver, in a queer, contemptuous way, had grown fond of Godfrey, as Godfrey had certainly grown fond of Oliver. But now, all at once, her son had opened a dark window into his soul—or was it into his heart? There was an under-current of hatred, as well as of the contempt to which she was accustomed, in the way Oliver had just spoken of his "friend"—of the man, at once fortunate and unfortunate, who was Laura Pavely's husband.
She stood up, and put her hand through her son's arm. "It's getting very cold," she said, and shivered.
He turned on her with quick concern: "I left you too long! I ought to have sent him away before—but he was such a long time getting it out—" under his breath he muttered "Damn him!"
CHAPTER II
MOTHER and son dined alone together, and then, rather early, Mrs. Tropenell went upstairs.