"She says," went on Lucy, looking through the letter with wrinkled forehead, "that they're all very hard-up indeed. Of course, I knew that; I can see it whenever I go there; only Peter will never take more than silly little clothes and things for Thomas. And now Peggy says they're in great straits; Thomas is going to teethe or something, and wants better milk, all from one cow, and they're all awfully in debt." "I should fancy that was chronic," remarked Denis, turning to Essence of Parliament. "A hole in the purse, a hole in the purse," muttered Lord Evelyn, tapping with his eye-glass. "Peggy says that Peter won't ask for help himself, but he's let her, it seems. And their boarders are nearly all gone, one of them quite suddenly, without paying a sixpence for all the time he was there." "I suppose he didn't think he'd had sixpence worth," said Denis. "He was probably right." "And Thomas is still very delicate after his bronchitis, and Peter's got a bad cold on the chest and wants more cough-mixture than they can afford to buy; and they owe money to the butcher and the fishmonger and the baker and the doctor and the tailor, and Hilary's lost his latest job and isn't earning anything at all. So I suppose Peter is keeping the family." "Scamps; scamps all," muttered Lord Evelyn. "Deserve all they get, and more. People like the Margerisons an't worth helping. They'd best go under at once; best go under. Swindlers and scamps, the lot of them. I daresay the woman's stories are half lies; of course, they want money, but it's probably only to spend on nonsense. Why can't they keep themselves, like decent people?" "Oh," said Lucy, dismissing that as absurd, "they can't. Of course they can't. They never could ... Denis." "Lucy." Denis absently put out a hand to meet hers. "How much shall we give them, Denis?" Denis dropped Punch onto the floor, and lay back with his hands clasped behind his fair head. Lucy, looking at his up-turned, foreshortened, cleanly-modelled face, thought with half of her mind what a perfect thing it was. Sudden aspects of Denis's beauty sometimes struck her breathless, as they struck Peter. "The Margerison family wants money, I understand," said Denis, who hadn't been listening attentively. "Very badly, Denis." Denis nodded. "They always do, of course.... Well, is it our business to fill the bottomless Margerison purse?" Lucy sat very still, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Our business? I don't know. But, of course, if Peter and Peter's people want anything, we shall give it them." "But I gather it's not Peter that asks? Peter never asks, does he?" "No," said Lucy. "Peter never asks. Not even for Thomas."