“Wait till to-morrow,” said Arthur, who still felt qualms.
“You’ll be too late then,” said Simson.
“All right—that’ll settle it then,” said Arthur.
“Felgate said he thought you’d be sure to go in,” urged the tempter.
“Did he?” said Arthur, a good deal impressed.
“Yes,” said Dig jocularly, already fumbling the ten-and-six in anticipation in his pocket. “Any muff can get round Arthur.”
It was an unlucky jest, if the baronet’s object was to decide his friend in favour of the proposal. For Arthur coloured up and took his hand out of his pocket.
“Wait till to-morrow,” said he again.
“Dig, you’ll give your name now, won’t you?” said Simson.
“Don’t know,” said Dig evasively; “better not stick it down, that is, not unless the list gets full up, you know.”