A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. ‘Imbecile. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. “But who could have lent you money?” “I pawned my pearl necklace. She has no proof—yet.
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