“But it was due last August,” the woman declared.
“That is quite untrue,” replied the rector very quietly.
“Well, the date is on the deed.”
“If it is, then the date has been altered.”
“But you have a copy.”
“No. I can’t find it. I must have mislaid it. Is there no stamp, with date?”
“It was never stamped. Mr Gray’s solicitors have already written to you three times about it, and you have not replied.”
“I have been away, taking duty in Switzerland. Besides, I understood that Gordon Gray died in New York last year, and—”
“And you thought that by that fact you would escape your indebtedness—eh?” laughed the woman as she stood beside the table, an erect smart figure which was well known in certain disreputable night-clubs in the West End. “But Gordon Gray attended service in your church to-night, and you must have seen him in the flesh.”
“I did,” replied the old man hoarsely. “Sight of him recalled many events of the past.”