"Yes," he agreed thoughtfully, wondering whether on the other hand, Mrs. Maldon had not taken all the notes upstairs, and left none of them downstairs. Was it possible that in that small roll, in that crushed ball that he had dropped into the grate, there was nearly a thousand pounds--the equivalent of an income of a pound a week for ever and ever?... Never mind! The incident, so far as he was concerned, was closed. The dogma of his future life would be that the bank-notes had never existed. "And I've looked _ev_'rywhere!" Rachel insisted with strong emphasis. Louis remarked, thoughtfully, as though a new aspect of the affair was presenting itself to him-- "It's really rather serious, you know!" "I should just say it was--as much money as that!" "I mean," said Louis, "for everybody. That is to say, Julian and me. We're involved." "How can you be involved? You didn't even know it was in the house." "No. But the old lady might have dropped it. I might have picked it up. Julian might have picked it up. Who's to prove--" She cut in coldly-- "Please don't talk like that!" He smiled with momentary constraint. He said to himself-- "It won't do to talk to this kind of girl like that. She won't stand it.... Why, she wouldn't even _dream_ of suspicion falling on herself--wouldn't dream of it." After a silence he began-- "Well--" and made a gesture to imply that the enigma baffled him. "I give it up!" breathed Rachel intimately. "I fairly give it up!" "And of course that was the cause of her attack?" he said suddenly, as if the idea had just occurred to him. Rachel nodded--"Evidently." "Well," said he, "I'll look in again during the afternoon. I must be getting along for my grub." He was hoping that he had not unintentionally brought about his aunt's death. "Not had your dinner!" she cried. "Why! It's after half-past two!" "Oh, well, you know ... Saturday...." "I shall get you a bit of dinner here," she said. "And then perhaps Mrs. Maldon will be waking up. Yes," she repeated, positively, "I shall get you a bit of dinner here, myself. Mrs. Maldon would not be at all pleased if I didn't." "I'm frightfully hungry," he admitted. And he was. When she had left the parlour he perceived evidences here and there that she had been hunting up hill and down dale for the notes; and he went into the back room with an earnest, examining air, as though he might find part of the missing hoard, after all, in some niche overlooked by Rachel. He would have preferred to think that Mrs. Maldon had not taken the whole of the money upstairs, but reflection did much to convince him that she had. It was infinitely regrettable that he had not counted his treasure-trove under the chair. IV