"I did," he acquiesced. "I was on my way to the south, of France and your letter was forwarded on to me at Southampton, where I'd put in en route. So we steamed for Silverquay at once. Now, perhaps, you'll gratify my curiosity as to what is the important matter you want to see me about. I can only think of one matter of any real importance," he added daringly, his blue eyes raking her face with the audacious, challenging glance which was so characteristic of the man. Reluctantly Ann desisted from fidgeting with the bowl of snowdrops, and Brett nodded approval. "Yes, I'm sure you've done your level best for them" he observed ironically. She sat down, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap, while Brett remained standing on the hearthrug, looking down at her with quizzical amusement. "I--I wanted to ask you--" she began, then halted abruptly and made a fresh start. "I wrote to you because--because--" Once again she came to a dead stop. "Well?" he queried. "I'm afraid I haven't grasped it yet." Ann pulled herself together and made another effort. "It's about Tony," she said bluntly. Brett's eyes narrowed, but he made no comment. He waited quietly for her to continue. "He's told me--I've found out--that he owes you a large sum of money." He nodded. "He owes me money, certainly. Whether you'd define it as a large or small sum would be a matter of relative proportion, I should imagine." "That's it!" exclaimed Ann eagerly. "That's just it. To him, twelve hundred is an enormous sum--a small fortune! To you--it isn't very much to you, Brett, is it?" "I don't quite understand," he replied cautiously. "You hold some bills of his--notes of hand, don't you call them?" she pursued. "And they're due to be paid now, aren't they?" "That is so. Well, what then?" "Why, it wouldn't make much difference to you--would it, Brett?"--appealingly--"if he didn't pay just yet--if you waited a little longer?" "I'm afraid I don't see with what object," he returned coldly. Ann caught her lip between her teeth. Oh, how difficult men were when it came to any question of money! How hard! Hardening all at once into cold and implacable strangers. "Why--why--" she said entreatingly. "Tony hasn't got the money to pay you with just now, and if you'll only wait a little--give him a little time to pay--Oh, Brett, won't you do it?" "Wait for my money, you mean?" "Yes." "Do you think"--sardonically--"that I'm any more likely to get it at the end of six months than I am at present? If Tony hasn't got twelve hundred now--is he proposing to earn it in the next six months?" The bitter, gibing note in his voice roused her anger. "You'd no business to lend it him!" she exclaimed hotly. "He's only young, and you were simply helping him, _encouraging_ him to gamble, when you know as well as I do that gambling is absolutely in his blood. You'd no _right_ to lend it him!"