She stooped and picked it up. When she saw what it was, her bewilderment increased.
"But—but—" she said.
His lordship beamed—upon her with a pebble-beached smile of indescribable good-will.
"Sit down," he urged. "We're pals.—No quol with you. You're good friend. Quol—Uncle Thomas."
"But, Lord Dreever, what are you doing? What was that noise I heard?"
"Opening drawer," said his lordship, affably.
"But—" she looked again at what she had in her hand—"but this is a five-pound note."
"Five-pound note," said his lordship. "Quite right. Three more of them in here."
Still, she could not understand.
"But—were you—stealing them?"