Ruby closed her eyes for a moment. He spoke quietly and calmly. She knew it had not been a sudden resolve, but that his mind had been made up.
There was a long silence between them. Outside the newsboys still shouted the sensational result.
At last Ruby rose. She crossed the room and stood with her back to Rupert for a little while. When she turned she was smiling, and she looked more like her old self—as if she had not a care in the world.
"Rupert," she whispered, and her voice, though a little unsteady, had a glad ring in it.
He picked up a letter lying on the table. The ink was scarcely dry on it. It was lying on a sheet of clean white blotting-paper. It was to his father—saying good-bye.
"The old man sent me a cheque," he mumbled. "I can't find it anywhere. Must have lost it this afternoon. I suppose some beggar will cash it. Don't much matter now, but it would have been useful to the old man: five pounds——" Again he laughed.
"Rupert!"
He turned then and looked at her. Perhaps something in her voice attracted him.
"You remember giving me five pounds to put on Paulus? Well, I didn't do it."
He shook his head to and fro. "It doesn't make any difference. I owe hundreds."