see Ann any more, the housemaid entered with a little package, a small, square envelope to "Arthur Kipps, Esquire."
"A young woman left this, Sir," said the housemaid, a little severely.
"Eh?" said Kipps; "what young woman?" and then suddenly began to understand.
"She looked an ordinary young woman," said the housemaid coldly.
"Ah!" said Kipps. "That's orlright."
He waited till the door had closed behind the girl, staring at the envelope in his hand, and then, with a curious feeling of increasing tension, tore it open. As he did so, some quicker sense than sight or touch told him its contents. It was Ann's half sixpence. And, besides, not a word!
Then she must have heard him!
She had kept the half sixpence all these years!
He was standing with the envelope in his hand, trying to get on from that last inference, when Coote became audible without.
Coote appeared in evening dress, a clean and radiant Coote, with large, greenish, white gloves and a particularly large white tie, edged with black. "For a third cousin," he presently explained. "Nace, isn't it?" He could see Kipps was pale and disturbed and put this down to the approaching social trial. "You keep your nerve up, Kipps, my dear chap, and you'll be all right," said Coote, with a big, brotherly glove on Kipps' sleeve.
