"Never mind the facts. I know them! What I require is an explanation."
He spread his feet further apart. The years had rolled back, and he was plain Thomas Blunt again, of Blunt's Stores, dealing with an erring employee.
"You know what I mean," he went on. "I am not referring to the breaking-off of the engagement. What I insist upon learning is your reason for failing to inform me earlier of the contents of that letter."
His lordship said that somehow, don't you know, there didn't seem to be a chance, you know. He had several times been on the point—but—well, some-how—well, that's how it was.
"No chance?" cried Sir Thomas. "Indeed! Why did you require that money I gave you?"
"Oh, er—I wanted it for something."
"Very possibly. For what?"
"I—the fact is, I owed it to a fellow."
"Ha! How did you come to owe it?"
His lordship shuffled.