“Hid a sovereign yesterday! You’re no sort of financier. You lent me a fiver about a month back. Do you remember?” Torpenhow said.
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you remember that I paid it you ten days later, and you put it at the bottom of the tobacco?”
“By Jove, did I? I thought it was in one of my colour-boxes.”
“You thought! About a week ago I went into your studio to get some “baccy and found it.”
“What did you do with it?”
“Took the Nilghai to a theatre and fed him.”
“You couldn’t feed the Nilghai under twice the money—not though you gave him Army beef. Well, I suppose I should have found it out sooner or later. What is there to laugh at?”
“You’re a most amazing cuckoo in many directions,” said the Nilghai, still chuckling over the thought of the dinner. “Never mind. We had both been working very hard, and it was your unearned increment we spent, and as you’re only a loafer it didn’t matter.”
“That’s pleasant—from the man who is bursting with my meat, too. I’ll get that dinner back one of these days. Suppose we go to a theatre now.”