The girl looked puzzled.  “More?” she said, in surprise.

“Much more,” said the other, still contemplating the fire.  “It is priceless.”

Miss Drewitt sat up suddenly and then let herself back slowly into the depths of the chair.  Her face turned scarlet and she hoped fervently that if Mr. Tredgold looked at her the earth might open and swallow him up.  She began to realize dimly that in the absence of an obliging miracle of that kind there would never be any getting rid of him.

“Priceless,” repeated Mr. Tredgold, in challenging tones.

Miss Drewitt made no reply.  Rejoinder was dangerous and silence difficult.  In a state of nervous indignation she rang for Mr. Tasker and instructed him to take away the tea-things; to sweep the hearth; and to alter the position of two pictures.  By the time all this was accomplished she had regained her wonted calm and was airing some rather strong views on the subject of two little boys who lived with a catapult next door but one.