Mr. Molloy wrote in his turn and Dolly picked up the two papers.
“In the cistern!” she read.
“And the rest of it?” inquired Mr. Twist pressingly.
“Mon Repos, Burberry Road,” said Mr. Molloy.
“Ah!” said Chimp. “And if I’d known that a week ago, we’d have been worth a million dollars apiece by now.”
“Say, listen,” said Dolly, who was pensive and had begun to eye Mr. Twist in rather an unpleasant manner. “This stuff old Finglass swiped from the bank, what is it?”
“American bearer securities, sweetie,” said her husband, rolling the words round his tongue as if they were vintage port. “As good as dollar bills. What’s the dope you’ve thought up, Chimpie?” he asked, deferentially removing a piece of fluff from his ally’s coat sleeve.
“Just a minute!” said Dolly sharply. “If that’s so, how can this stuff be in any cistern? It would have melted, being all that time in the water.”
“It’s in a waterproof case, of course,” said Chimp.
“Oh, it is, is it?”