"Oh! Aunt Elizabeth!" McTaggart rocked with mirth. "It's hardly respectable, is it, Jill? I'm afraid she's had a shocking 'Past.'"
"Anyhow, her Present's all right!" said Jill neatly, folding the letter. "She is good"—her face went grave. "D'you think I really ought to take it?"
"You must. She'd be most awfully hurt."
He nodded his head wisely at Jill. "We'll make it up to her one day—give her a topping good time and ... oh, I say?" He shifted a little in order to see his wife's face.
"I've got to confess something, Jill. Something I did before I left. Promise you won't be cross with me?"
"So have I," said Jill quickly. "I quite forgot ... Let's get it over. You first." Absently, she handed across the wad of notes.
McTaggart smiled.
"No—they're yours. You must guard them from the 'worthless husband.'"
"I daren't. I shall lose them," she declared. "Do take them, Peter dear."
"All right." He placed them away in his pocketbook, with secret amusement.