He sat smiling, cheque in one hand, cigar in the other, until Warburton asked what he was thinking over.
"Nothing--nothing.

Well, I suppose I'd better take it with me; I'm on my way to the bank." As Will watched the little slip of paper disappear into his friend's pocket-book, he had an unaccountable feeling of disquiet.

Nothing could be more unworthy than distrust of Godfrey Sherwood; nothing less consonant with all his experience of the man; and, had the money been his, he would have handed it over as confidently as when, in fact, dealing with his own capital the other day.

But the sense of responsibility to others was a new thing to which he could not yet accustom himself.

It occurred to him for the first time that there was no necessity for accumulating these funds in the hands of Sherwood; he might just as well have retained his own money and this cheque until the day of the signing of the new deed.