Pollyooly puckered her brow thoughtfully: "I think it ought to be six," she said very firmly.
"All right—six," said the duke with tears in his voice.
He drew a note-case from his pocket, took a five-pound note from it, drew a handful of money from his trousers pocket, chose a thin-looking sovereign from it, and gave them to Pollyooly.
She thanked him politely, but without undue warmth.
Every one but the duke looked relieved and pleased.
Then Ronald said, "May I have the car and take Mary home, Uncle?"
The duke growled an assent, and Pollyooly dropped a curtsey and bade him good evening like the well-mannered child she was.
In the car Ronald said: "By Jove! It was fun! You did stand up to them; and John Ruffin did pull uncle's leg. He's a fair knock-out, John Ruffin is. I'd no idea. And you have all that money—six quid! What are you going to do with it?"
"Save it," said Pollyooly.
"It seems funny to save money," said Ronald.
