"Not for a penny," was the answer.
"Ah, you'll have to commence the world all over again."
"Heaven help us!" was the answer. "We are worse than naked; we owe money."
"Never mind, old woman," shouted a tipsy man, "there's the work'us open."
"Shut up, you brute!" cried an indignant female. "Have you no bowels?"
At the words, "We are ruined," a thrill shot through Basil. Here was a woman whom Newman Chaytor had wronged; here was a woman to whom atonement was due. He knew what it was right should be done, and he determined to do it. He lingered near them until the shop lay a mouldering heap of ruins; he heard a kind neighbour offer them lodging for the night; he marked the house they entered; and then he went home to his own lodging of one room. There, safely concealed, was a sum of money amounting to three hundred pounds; he took the whole of it, wrote on a sheet of paper, "In partial atonement of wrong committed in the past," and put the paper and the notes in an envelope, which he addressed to Mrs. Addison. Then he went to Mrs. Philpott's house. "You are late, sir," said that cheerful woman; "an hour behind time."
"I have been detained."
"You're not too late for supper, sir, at all events," said Mrs. Philpott; "I put it back for you."
"You must excuse me," said Basil; "something of pressing importance has occurred, and I want Mr. Philpott to come out with me immediately."
"Quite ready, sir," said Mr. Philpott, rising and getting his hat.