"But I happen to be an honest man myself. Shari squealed, clutching her towel around her. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do.
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