But when Captain Dove, growing restless, would have glanced over his shoulder to see what was tickling his fancy so, he frowned and folded that document up and returned it to Mr. Jobling.
"Give it here, now!" growled Captain Dove, menacing Mr. Jobling with a clenched fist; and the lawyer, after an appealing, impotent glance at Slyne, had no recourse but to comply with that peremptory order.
"Are you quite sure of your figures?" Slyne asked, with a scowl. He seemed conscious that he, in his haste, had made a false step. And Mr. Jobling nodded with nervous assurance.
"I have inside sources of information as to the revenue of the estates," he replied, "and a note of all the investments. I've allowed a wide margin for all sorts of incidentals. I think you'll find, in fact, that Lady Josceline's inheritance will amount to even more than I've estimated."
Slyne smiled again, more contentedly. Nor was his complaisance overcome even when Mr. Jobling put to him a half-whispered petition for a further small cash advance to account of expenses.
"I wasn't even able to pay Mullins' wages with what you gave me in Paris," said the stout solicitor vexedly. "Fees and so on swallowed it all up, and—I'm actually short of cab-fares!"
"Why don't you fire Mullins, then?" demanded Slyne with a shade of impatience. "I've just got rid of my chauffeur because he was costing me more than he was worth."
"But I can't afford to get rid of Mullins. Just at the moment he's very useful to me. It would create a bad impression if I had to run my own errands. And—the fact is, he knows far too much. I'll pay him off and shut his mouth by and by, when I have more time to attend to such matters."
"How much do you want?" Slyne inquired with a frown evidently meant to warn his friend to be modest.
"Can you spare twenty pounds—to go on with?"