"That'll come tomorrow," said Miss Pett, seating herself at the table and glancing at her nephew's bag. "We'll do our own business tonight. Well, how have you come on?" Christopher munched and drank for a minute or two. Then he nodded, with much satisfaction in his manner. "Very well," he answered. "I got what I consider a very good price. Sold the whole lot to another Brixton property-owner, got paid, and have brought you the money. All of it--ain't even taken my costs, my expenses, and my commission out of it--yet." "How much did you sell for?" asked Miss Pett. Christopher pulled his bag to his side and took a bundle of red-taped documents from it. "You ought to think yourself jolly lucky," he said, wagging his head admonitorily at his aunt. "I see a lot of the state of the property market, and I can assure you I did uncommonly well for you. I shouldn't have got what I did if it had been sold by auction. But the man I sold to was a bit keen, 'cause he's already got adjacent property, and he gave rather more than he would ha' done in other circumstances. I got," he continued, consulting the topmost of his papers, "I got, in round figures, three thousand four hundred--to be exact, three thousand four hundred, seventeen, five, eleven." "Where's the money?" demanded Miss Pett. "It's here," answered Christopher, tapping his breast. "In my pocket-book. Notes, big and little--so that we can settle up." Miss Pett stretched out her hand. "Hand it over!" she said. Christopher gave his aunt a sidelong glance. "Hadn't we better reckon up my costs and commission first?" he suggested. "Here's an account of the costs--the commission, of course, was to be settled between you and me." "We'll settle all that when you've handed the money over," said Miss Pett. "I haven't counted it yet." There was a certain unwillingness in Christopher Pett's manner as he slowly produced a stout pocket-book and took from it a thick wad of bank-notes. He pushed this across to his aunt, with a tiny heap of silver and copper. "Well, I'm trusting to you, you know," he said a little doubtfully. "Don't forget that I've done well for you." Miss Pett made no answer. She had taken a pair of spectacles from her pocket, and with these perched on the bridge of her sharp nose she proceeded to count the notes, while her nephew alternately sipped at his toddy and stroked his chin, meanwhile eyeing his relative's proceedings with somewhat rueful looks. "Three thousand, four hundred and seventeen pounds, five shillings and elevenpence," and Miss Pett calmly. "And them costs, now, and the expenses--how much do they come to, Chris?" "Sixty-one, two, nine," answered Christopher, passing one of his papers across the table with alacrity. "You'll find it quite right--I did it as cheap as possible for you." Miss Pett set her elbow on her heap of bank-notes while she examined the statement. That done, she looked over the tops of her spectacles at the expectant Christopher.