"Mebby dar's some mistake, Othello."
"No, dar ain't," persisted Othello. "Mr. Moseby's lost ten thousand dollars; he'd orter know. De bank's gone to smash, clar nuff."
Clo burst into a new paroxysm of distress, and Dolf, after a brief struggle with his own disappointment, turned on her:
"Yer needn't rouse de house wid yer hurlyburly," said he, savagely. "Better 'member Miss Elsie's sick."
Clo stared at him in tearless horror; a new fear struck her; was he going to prove false?
"Don't talk so," she said; "tink of yesterday, Dolf!"
Dolf drew himself up, and looked first at her and then at the company with an air of profound astonishment.
"I tink her brain am turned," said he.
"'Taint!" roared Clo. "Oh, Dolfy, yer said yer loved me; yer knows yer did; dat yer didn't care for money; dat I was a Wenus in yer eyes—oh—oh!"
"Wal, I do declar!" cried Vic.