The thought recalled her to the situation which she had begun to lose sight of. She looked doubtfully at Mr. Sandal.
Catching the appeal in her glance, Mr. Sandal said: "Miss Ashby is no doubt prepared to vouch for you, but you will understand that the matter needs more clarification. If it were a simple matter of a prodigal's homecoming, your aunt's acceptance of you would no doubt be sufficient to restore you to the bosom of your family. But in the present instance it is a matter of property. Of the ultimate destination of a fortune. And the law will require incontrovertible evidence of your identity before you could be allowed to succeed to anything that was Patrick Ashby's. I hope you understand our position."
"I understand perfectly. I shall, of course, stay here until you have made your inquiries and are satisfied."
"But you can't stay here," Bee said, looking with loathing at the room and the forest of chimney-pots beyond the window.
"I have stayed in a great many worse places."
"Perhaps. That is no reason for staying here. If you need money we can give you some, you know."
"I'll stay here, thanks."
"Are you just being independent?"
"No. It's quiet here. And handy. And bung full of privacy. When you have lived in bunk houses you put a high value on privacy."
"Very well, you stay here. Is there anything else we can-can stake you to?"