“He had until to-day,” replied Thalia. “But this afternoon Mr. Brabazon went out--I think he went to the Bank of England, because the notes were all new. He sent for me and I saw them stacked up on his desk. He told me he was closing Marl’s account, and that he was not the kind of man he wanted as a client. Then he took the money and called on Marl, I think, for when he came back just before the bank closed he handed me Marl’s cheque.” “‘I’ve settled that account, Miss Drummond,’ he said. ‘I don’t think we’ll be troubled with that blackguard again.’” “Did he know about Marl asking you out to dinner?” asked Milly, but the girl shook her head. Mr. Barnet said nothing. He was sitting back in his chair, fondling his chin, with a faraway look in his eyes. “A big amount, was it?” he asked. “Sixty-two thousand,” replied the girl. “And it is in his house?” said Barnet, his face pink with excitement. “Sixty-two thousand! Did you hear that, Milly? And you’re dining with him to-night?” said “Flush” Barnet slowly and significantly. “Now, what about it?” She met his gaze without flinching. “What about what?” she asked. “Here’s the chance of a lifetime,” he said, husky with emotion. “You’re going to the house. You’re not above stringing the old man along, are you, Thalia?” She was silent. “I know the place,” said “Flush” Barnet, “one of those quaint little houses in Kensington that cost a fortune to keep up. Marisburg Place, Bayswater Road.” “I know the address pretty well,” said the girl. “He keeps three menservants,” said “Flush” Barnet, “but they’re usually out any night he happens to be entertaining a lady friend. Do you get me?” “But he’s not entertaining me in his house,” said the girl. “What’s the matter with a little bit of supper after the show, eh?” asked Barnet. “Suppose he puts it up to you, and you say yes. There’ll be no servants in the house when you get back. That I’ll take my oath. I’ve studied Marl.” “What do you expect me to do? Rob him?” asked Thalia. “Stick a gun under his nose and say, ‘Deliver your pieces of eight’?” “Don’t be a fool,” said Mr. Barnet, startled out of his pose of elegant gentleman. “You’re to do nothing but have your supper and come away. Keep him amused, make him laugh. You needn’t be frightened because I’ll be in the house soon after you, and if there’s any trouble I’ll be on hand.” The girl was playing with her teaspoon, her eyes fixed on the tablecloth. “Suppose he doesn’t send his servants away?” “You can bank on that,” interrupted Mr. Barnet. “Moses! There never was such a wonderful opportunity! Do you agree?” Thalia shook her head. “It is too big for me. Maybe you’re right and I’m likely to get into trouble, but it seems to me that petty pilfering is my long suit.” “Bah!” said Barnet in disgust. “You’re mad! Now’s your time to make a harvest, my dear. You’re not known to the police. You’re not under the limelight like me. Are you going to do it?”