"These matters, Mrs. Osbourne, are secret."
She rose, drawing on her gauntlets. "Of course," she twittered, "I would never dream—wild horses couldn't——"
"They wouldn't be so rude, dear lady. But is it true that there are rumours on 'Change?"
"Oh, dreadful rumours, my Jack——" she was arranging her hair—"says that the gold fiend is going to sell his gold at a penny an ounce. He says that if that's true a sovereign won't buy a loaf of bread next week, but then, dear Miss Temple, that would never matter to my Jack. He always has rusks, you know. Well, good-bye."
"Good-bye, pet," said Miss Temple, kissing her on the forehead.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Osbourne."
"Good-bye, Lord Sydney—Ta-ta!"
"Thank goodness she's gone," said Sydney, closing the door behind her.
"Oh, but Sydney," Miss Temple quivered, "she'll tell it all over the town."
"Better than a newspaper," said the trooper.