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Luke Walton

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Год написания книги
2017
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"So that I kept none for myself. Now I am sure you will open your heart, and give me five dollars more."

"I never heard such cheek!" exclaimed Harold, indignantly. "You've got half, and are not satisfied with that."

"But think of my poor sister!" said Felicie, putting her handkerchief to her eyes, in which there were no tears.

"Think of me!" exclaimed Harold, angrily.

"Then you won't give me the trifle I ask?"

"Trifle? I haven't got it."

"Where is it gone?"

"Gone to buy this watch. That took nearly the whole of it."

"It is indeed so? I thought you received it as a reward for picking up a pocketbook."

"I had to tell my aunt something. Otherwise they would ask me embarrassing questions."

"Ah, quelle invention!" exclaimed Felicie, playfully. "And you really have none of the money left?"

"No."

"Then there is only one way."

"What is that?"

"To open the drawer again."

"Are you mad, Felicie? I should surely be discovered. It won't do to try it a second time when my aunt is on her guard. Besides, very likely she don't keep her money there now."

"Oh, yes, she does."

"How do you know?"

"I was in the room yesterday when she opened the drawer to take out money to pay a bill."

"She must be foolish, then."

"Ah," said Felicie, coolly, "she thinks lightning won't strike twice in the same place."

"Well, it won't."

"There must have been fifty dollars in bills in the drawer," continued Felicie, insinuatingly.

"It may stay there for all me. I won't go to the drawer again."

"I must have some money," said Felicie, significantly.

"Then go and tell Aunt Eliza, and she may give you some."

"I don't think your Aunt Eliza likes me," said Felicie, frankly.

"Very likely not," said Harold, with equal candor.

"You can raise some money on your watch, Master Harold," suggested Felicie.

"How?"

"At the pawnbroker's."

"Well, I don't mean to."

"No?"

"No!" returned Harold, emphatically.

"Suppose I go and tell Mrs. Merton who took her money?"

"You would only expose yourself."

"I did not take it."

"You made me divide with you."

"I shall deny all that. Besides, I shall tell all that I saw – on that day."

Harold felt troubled. Felicie might, as he knew, make trouble for him, and though he could in time inform against her, that would not make matters much better for him. Probably the whole story would come out, and he felt sure that the French maid would not spare him.

A lucky thought came to him.

"Felicie," he said, "I think I can suggest something that will help you."

"Well, what is it?"

"Go to my aunt's drawer yourself. You have plenty of chance, and you can keep all the money you find. I won't ask you for any of it."

Felicie eyed him sharply. She was not sure but he meant to trap her.

"I have no keys," she said.

"You can use the same bunch I have. Here they are!"

Felicie paused a moment, then took the proffered keys. After all, why should she not make use of the suggestion? It would be thought that the second thief was the same as the first.

"Can I rely on your discretion, Master Harold?" she asked.

"Yes, certainly. I am not very likely to say anything about the matter."
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