Bones shrugged, but with more emphasis.
"I suppose," he confessed, with a show of self-deprecation which his smugness belied, "I suppose I am one of those jolly old spiders who sit in the centre of my web, or one of those perfectly dinky little tigers who sit in my jolly old lair, waiting for victims.
"Of course, it's cruel sport"--he shrugged again, toying with his ivory paper-knife--"but one must live. In the City one preys upon other ones."
"Do the other ones do any preying at all?" asked Hamilton.
Up went Bones's eyebrows.
"They try," he said tersely, and with compressed lips. "Last week a fellow tried to sell me his gramophone, but I had a look at it. As I suspected, it had no needle. A gramophone without a needle," said Bones, "as you probably know, my dear old musical one, is wholly useless."
"But you can buy them at a bob a box," said Hamilton.
Bones's face fell.
"Can you really?" he demanded. "You are not pulling my leg, or anything? That's what the other fellow said. I do a little gambling," Bones went on, "not on the Stock Exchange or on the race-course, you understand, but in Exchanges."
"Money Exchanges?"
Bones bowed his head.
"For example," he said, "to-day a pound is worth thirty-two francs, to-morrow it is worth thirty-four francs. To-day a pound is worth four dollars seventy-seven----"
"As a matter of fact, it is three dollars ninety-seven," interrupted Hamilton.
"Ninety-seven or seventy-seven," said Bones irritably, "what is four shillings to men like you or me, Hamilton? We can well afford it."
"My dear chap," said Hamilton, pardonably annoyed, "there is a difference of four shillings between your estimate and the rate."
"What is four shillings to you or me?" asked Bones again, shaking his head solemnly. "My dear old Ham, don't be mean."
There was a discreet tap on the door, and Bones rose with every evidence of agitation.
"Don't stir, dear old thing," he pleaded in a husky whisper. "Pretend not to notice, dear old Ham. Don't be nervous--wonderful young lady----"
Then, clearing his throat noisily, "Come in!" he roared in the tone that a hungry lion might have applied to one of the early Christian martyrs who was knocking by mistake on the door of his den.
In spite of all injunctions, Hamilton did look, and he did stare, and he did take a great deal of notice, for the girl who came in was well worth looking at. He judged her to be about the age of twenty-one. "Pretty" would be too feeble a word to employ in describing her. The russet-brown hair, dressed low over her forehead, emphasized the loveliness of eyes set wide apart and holding in their clear depths all the magic and mystery of womanhood.
She was dressed neatly. He observed, too, that she had an open book under her arm and a pencil in her hand, and it dawned upon him slowly that this radiant creature was--Bones's secretary!
Bones's secretary!
He stared at Bones, and that young man, very red in the face, avoided his eye.
Bones was standing by the desk, in the attitude of an after-dinner speaker who was stuck for the right word. In moments of extreme agitation Bones's voice became either a growl or a squeak--the bottom register was now in exercise.
"Did--did you want me, young miss?" he demanded gruffly.
The girl at the door hesitated.
"I'm sorry--I didn't know you were engaged. I wanted to see you about the Abyssinian----"
"Come in, come in, certainly," said Bones more gruffly than ever. "A new complication, young miss?"
She laid a paper on the desk, taking no more notice of Hamilton than if he were an ornament on the chimney-piece.
"The first instalment of the purchase price is due to-day," she said.
"Is it?" said Bones, with his extravagant surprise. "Are you certain, young miss? This day of all days--and it's a Thursday, too," he added unnecessarily.
The girl smiled and curled her lip, but only for a second.
"Well, well," said Bones, "it's a matter of serious importance. The cheque, jolly old young miss, we will sign it and you will send it off. Make it out for the full amount----"
"For the three thousand pounds?" said the girl.
"For the three thousand pounds," repeated Bones soberly. He put in his monocle and glared at her. "For the three thousand pounds," he repeated.
She stood waiting, and Bones stood waiting, he in some embarrassment as to the method by which the interview might be terminated and his secretary dismissed without any wound to her feelings.
"Don't you think to-morrow would do for the cheque?" she asked.
"Certainly, certainly," said Bones. "Why not? To-morrow's Friday, ain't it?"
She inclined her head and walked out of the room, and Bones cleared his throat once more.
"Bones----"
The young man turned to meet Hamilton's accusing eye.
"Bones," said Hamilton gently, "who is the lady?"
"Who is the lady?" repeated Bones, with a cough. "The lady is my secretary, dear old inquisitor."
"So I gather," said Hamilton.
"She is my secretary," repeated Bones. "An extremely sensible young woman, extremely sensible."
"Don't be silly," said Hamilton. "Plenty of people are sensible. When you talk about sensible young women, you mean plain young women."
"That's true," said Bones; "I never thought of that. What a naughty old mind you have, Ham."
He seemed inclined to change the subject.
"And now, dear old son," said Bones, with a brisk return to his what-can-I-do-for-you air, "to business! You've come, dear old thing, to consult me."
"You're surprisingly right," said Hamilton.
"Well," said Bones, trying three drawers of his desk before he could find one that opened, "have a cigar, and let us talk."
Hamilton took the proffered weed and eyed it suspiciously.
"Is this one that was given to you, or one that you bought?" he demanded.
"That, my jolly old officer," said Bones, "is
