Gladys, who was only the between-maid, but was nevertheless stout, breathless from her climb and the sentiment of the occasion, produced from a deep pocket a dirty envelope, which she laid upon the table.
"Many 'appy returns, Master Jeremy." Giggle...

giggle...

"Lord save us if I 'aven't gone and forgotten they spunes," and she vanished.

The present-giving had begun.
He had an instant's struggle as to whether it were better to wait until all the presents had accumulated, or whether he would take them separately as they arrived.

The dirty envelope lured him.