Marsden had risen and approached the table. It was as if the bank-notes had irresistibly drawn him. Perhaps, though in his career he had dissipated so many notes singly or by small batches, he had never yet seen such a good show of them, all together, at one time. And such noble denominations!
"Twice three thousand," said Prentice. "Quite right." While counting, he had divided the notes into two piles; and now he slid them towards the middle of the table, and put an ink-stand on top to prevent their blowing away.
Marsden stood over them. He could not leave the table now.
"Then here we are. All in order," said Collins, as he spread out his parchment and glanced at Mrs. Marsden. "I suppose, strictly speaking, it should be ladies first. But as the pen is close to your hand, Mr. Marsden—will you, sir, open the ball?"
"Oh, that's the conveyance for the sale, eh? Where do I sign?"
"There—against the seal—over the pencil marks.... And I'll witness your signature."
Then Mr. Marsden duly signed his name, and repeated the formula as prompted by Collins.
"I deliver it as my act and deed.... Now, Jane!"
Mrs. Marsden had not stirred from her seat.
"Don't put down your pen, Richard. There's the other deed to sign. Mr. Prentice is ready for you."