"Thought you were mad! I am beginning to think so now." "You flatter me. And--then there's the tip for Ceruleans. I--I confess that I have taken advantage of it; but had I known what I know now, I would sooner first have died. I have not yet received the whole of my gains--indeed, I have only received a portion as a favour from a friend. Here, Mrs Murphy, is a cheque for £5,000." Mr Coventry thrust another slip of paper into the astonished lady's hand. She kept her presence of mind admirably upon the whole. "I suppose, Mr Coventry, that you are a gentleman?" "I suppose I was until you taught me otherwise." "Then, as a gentleman, perhaps you will keep silence while a lady speaks." Mr Coventry shrugged his shoulders. "I see that I have here ten notes of a thousand pounds each. Am I to understand that someone has made you a present of £10,000?" "Mrs Murphy, pray don't dissemble!" "I have not the slightest intention of what you call dissembling. If you suppose I was the donor, you are under a great delusion. I don't think I ever gave any living creature even ten thousand pence; I have far too just a sense of the value of money." It was Mr Coventry's turn to look astonished. "Then if--if it wasn't you--" "Who was it? That I cannot tell you. Someone, I should say, with more money than sense." "But--but the tip for Ceruleans?" "I have not the least notion what you're talking about. But I may tell you this: I myself only received what you call a 'tip' for Ceruleans this morning." "The--the deuce you did!" "Possibly you are aware that one of the chief holders of Ceruleans is a lady?" "A lady!" "That lady happens to be my friend. This morning she called on me while I was having breakfast. During that call she gave me the information on which I acted." "Who--who is this lady?" "I don't know that it is a secret; the lady is Sarah Freemantle." "Sarah Freemantle!" "She is staying in Brighton, you know--or perhaps you don't know--because she has actually gone and hidden herself away in one of the back streets, as if, as I tell her, she were hiding from her creditors. Her creditors! Why, she's worth untold millions!" Mr Coventry was silent. Mrs Murphy sat and watched him. He was quite worth looking at. George Coventry has been pronounced by a high authority to be the handsomest man in England. Oddly enough, he was not only handsome, but he looked good and honest too; and he was without an atom of conceit. In the eyes of some people it was an extra recommendation that he was not exactly wise. When Mrs Murphy had looked at the young gentleman quite two minutes, she moved up to his end of the carriage. "Mr Coventry, here is your property. You are fortunate in having such a friend." Without a word Mr Coventry placed the cheque and the notes within his pocket-book. "After all, I am not sure that I would not have liked to have been that friend myself." Mr Coventry fidgeted. "You--you are very good."