“Trouble was,” said his lordship, “that old boy thought it was love letter. Didn’t undeceive him.”
“You didn’t tell him? Why?”
His lordship raised his eyebrows.
“Wanted touch him twenty of the best,” he explained simply.
For the life of her Molly could not help laughing.
“Don’t laugh,” protested his lordship, wounded. “No joke—serious—honour at stake.”
He removed the three notes and replaced the drawer.
“Honour of the Dreevers!” he added, pocketing the money.
“But, Lord Dreever!” she cried. “You can’t! You mustn’t! You can’t be going, really, to take that money? It’s stealing! It isn’t yours!”
His lordship wagged a forefinger very solemnly at her.