You are going to do something, I suppose." They had reached the gold and green room above.

Lydia began pacing the length of a beautiful Kermanshah rug--a pale, delicate marvel of rose and green on a ground of ivory--lovely, but doomed to fade sooner than the pretty woman who trod it with restless, silk-shod feet.
Mortimer had not responded to her last question.

She said presently: "You have never told me how you intend to make him pay you back." "What ?" inquired Mortimer, turning very red.
"I said that you haven't yet told me how you intend to make Howard return the money you lost through his juggling with your stock." "I don't exactly know myself," admitted Mortimer, still overflushed.
"I mean to put it to him squarely, as a debt of honour that he owes.

I asked him whether to invest.

Damn him! he never warned me not to.