“You look rippin’ in that dress,” he said irrelevantly.
“Thank you, Spennie, dear. But listen.” She spoke as if she were humouring a rebellious infant. “You really mustn’t take that money. You must put it back. See, I’m putting this note back. Give me the others, and I’ll put them in the drawer too. Then we’ll shut the drawer, and nobody will know.”
She took the notes from him, and replaced them in the drawer. He watched her thoughtfully, as if he were pondering the merits of her arguments.
“No,” he said suddenly. “No—must have them—moral right! Old boy——”
She pushed him gently away.
“Yes, yes, I know,” she said. “I know it’s a shame that you can’t have them; but you mustn’t take them. Don’t you see that he would suspect you the moment he found they were gone? And then you’d get into trouble.”
“Something in that,” admitted his lordship.
“Of course there is, Spennie, dear. I’m so glad you see. There they all are, safe again in the drawer. Now we can go downstairs again, and——”
She stopped. She had closed the door earlier in the proceedings, but her quick ear caught the sound of a footstep in the passage outside.
“Quick!” she whispered, taking his hand and darting to the electric light switch. “Somebody’s coming. We mustn’t be caught here. They’d see the broken drawer, and you’d get into awful trouble. Quick!”