Tracy was the Duke. Richard smiled a little cynically; he had already had to lend his Grace a thousand guineas to pay off some “trifling debt.”

“He means it right enough. I believe it would puzzle him to find it.”

“Do you say so? Why, ’tis impossible man! Tracy was in town scarce a fortnight since, and he had a run of the devil’s own luck. I tell you Dick, I saw him walk off with a cool five thousand one night! And then he denies me a paltry three! Lord, what a brother! And all with the air of an angel, as if he had never lost at dice. And a homily thrown in! Anyone would think I had cheated, instead of⁠—ahem!⁠ ⁠… Dick, I’m confoundedly sorry! Damned thoughtless of me⁠—never thought about Jo⁠—about what I was saying⁠—I’m a fool!” For Richard had winced.

“You cannot help that,” he said, forcing a laugh. “Have done with your apologies, and continue.”