"Why bother? I've got five years to turn round in before Sonia's ready for me——"
"When you do marry her, I shall give you a very handsome present—I don't like betting on these things."
"I shall marry her, George," he answered, with assurance. "I've got five years to make money in—here or abroad—a thousand a year——"
"In five years?"
"Less. Three. Two. If I don't make it in two, working twelve hours a day, I'll make it in three, working eighteen."
"I rather doubt——"
It was the one word that lashed him like a whip. His hand descended on my driving arm and gripped it till the car rocked from side to side.
"If—I—ever—doubted—anything——!" he whispered.
"Let go my arm!" I cried.