Why did money pass from him to you?
I saw you put it in your pocket--a bundle of bank-notes." "You're a prying old catemeran!" cried Mr.Whitelaw savagely, "and a drunken old fool into the bargain .-- Why do you let her muddle herself with the gin-bottle like that, Ellen?
You ought to have more respect for my property.

You don't call that taking care of your husband's house .-- As for you, mother Tadman, if you treat me to any more of this nonsense, you will find yourself turned out of house and home a precious deal sooner than you bargained for; but it won't be because of my selling Wyncomb.
Sell Wyncomb, indeed! I've about as much thought of going up in a balloon, as of parting with a rood or a perch of my father's land." This was a very long speech for Mr.Whitelaw; and, having finished it, he sank into his chair, quite exhausted by the unusual effort, and refreshed himself with copious libations of gin-and-water.
"What was that man here for, then, Stephen?
It's only natural I should want to know that," said Mrs.Tadman, abashed, but not struck dumb by her kinsman's reproof.
"What's that to you?
Business.

Yes, there _has_ been money pass between us, and it's rather a profitable business for me.

Perhaps it was horse-racing, perhaps it wasn't.

That's about all you've any call to know.