The word left his tongue with difficulty. George guessed that the other retained enough decency to loathe himself for having to use it. The nervousness of the long fingers increased while the clerk prepared the note and George wrote the check. George put a pen in the unsteady hand.
"Sign here, please."
Dalrymple obeyed with a signature, shaky, barely legible.
"Nice of you to do me a favour. Appreciate it. Thanks."
To George it would have been worth that money to find out just how Sylvia's extended engagement had affected Dalrymple. Was it responsible for his speeding up on the dangerous path of pleasure? Of that he could learn only what the other chose to disclose, probably nothing. But what was he waiting for now that he had the money? Why were his fingers twitching faster than ever?
"Didn't see Lambert when I came in," he managed.
"I daresay he's about," George said. "Want him?"
Dalrymple raised his hand.
"That's just it," he whispered. "Rather not see Lambert. Rather this little transaction were kept sub rosa. You understand. No point Lambert's knowing."
"Why not?" George asked, coolly, feeling himself on the edge of the truth.