"You're not fooling me. You swear it. If it was with Barrett they'll pay up all right. They're a big firm, they'll pay up to-morrow."
She managed to assure him she was speaking the truth.
He began to laugh, then checked himself with an effort. "Why the devil didn't you tell me before?" he cried savagely. "I might have——"
He seized his hat and put it on. "I must get out of this. I must think it over. I want air. I can't realise it.... My God, five hundred pounds! I'm saved." He opened the door. "Wait until I come back. I shan't be long. Wait there until I come back."
She listened to his footsteps descending the staircase. She heard the front door bang. She stood at the window and watched him walk down the street. He held himself erect, his face turned to the sky now.
Ruby closed the window and drew down the blind. Then she sat down at the writing-table, and taking off her gloves picked up a pen.
The cheque drawn by Reginald Crichton lay just inside one of the long white gloves. Picking it up she unfolded it and laid it on the white sheet of blotting paper.
Five hundred pounds!
CHAPTER III.
SALVATION.