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"This man's a stock-jobber; he came to talk
to me about my money, but he let out a thing or two about Sandro."
"About Mr. Quisante?"
"Yes. Well, I'm not surprised; I never am surprised at Sandro. Only if he
speculates with my money I shan't give it him."
May listened and heard how Quisante had embarked the five hundred pounds
given him to support his new position in a hazardous, although not
unpromising, speculation. Whether he would win or lose was still
uncertain; Mandeville had hopes.
"And I don't know that it's exactly dishonest," said Aunt Maria
meditatively. "But that's just like Sandro. He's always doing things that
you can't be quite sure about--whether they're straight or not, you know.
He was just the same as a boy."
May had a sense of treachery in listening, but how should she not listen?
Morewood's opinion came into her memory. Miss Quisante was confirming it
out of her full acquaintance with its subject.
"I gave him the money, it was his own, I've got nothing to show," said
Miss Quisante with her vinegary little smile.


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