"Then you heard wrong; I ain't. Why shouldn't it be Miss Truscott, Ash? I've got something and she's got something. I tell you fairly, if she hadn't it wouldn't do. And if we pulled together, you and I, we might put something in each other's way."
He winked at Mr. Ash. Mr. Ash grinned, and turned aside. He regarded the letter on his desk.
"Have you spoken to her yet?"
"Not a word. I wanted first to have things clear with you. I'll run down to-morrow if it's all serene."
Mr. Ash appeared to be turning the matter over in his mind. "There's no man in England that girl need ask to marry her."
"I'm sure I never said there was."
"Ah, I daresay if you were to take nine men out of ten and heap them in a crowd, she might take her pick out of the lot!"
"If it comes to that, I might take my pick out of a few. Frederic Ely's a man who never need go begging."
Mr. Ash smiled. His smile was scarcely flattering to his friend. He continued to turn the matter over in his mind. Suddenly he got up.
"Ely, I like you. We've had our differences, but as you say, that's because we're both men of business, and like to see the entries on the right side of the ledger."