"'I'M VERY ANGRY,' SHE SAID."
"Mr. Arbuthnot," she said, "I should like to have a few words with you. I'm very angry."
I followed her meekly.
"My aunt has been here this afternoon," she began, when we had reached her flat, "and I hear that you are in debt, and that your furniture is going to be sold."
"It is quite true," I said, wearily. "You see, I got into debt at Oxford——"
"Do you think I'm a fool?" she asked, indignantly. "What has my aunt got to do with it?"
"Your aunt?" I answered. "What should she have to do with it? I suppose someone informed her——"
"You suppose nothing of the kind," she answered, hotly. "I know why; she told me. It was because she disapproved of—of your tuition, and I'm sure she had something to do with this, or she wouldn't have been so pleased with herself. I know my aunt only too well. On your word of honour, isn't she concerned in this, Mr. Arbuthnot?"
"What in the world," I replied, attempting to parry the question, "should a respectable elderly lady like your aunt have to do with debt-collecting?"