“I never received them.” Her voice was cold, and she removed her hand from his arm.
“I sent them in your father's care.”
“That is probably the reason why I did not get them.”
“Why should he refuse to give them to you? I borrowed money from him but I repaid him before I left America.”
He thought she was not acquainted with his perfidy. She would undeceive him.
“Did you tell him the truth when you borrowed it?”
His face flushed. How could she know? But she did. He would be honest with her.
“No, I did not.”
“I knew it. My sister Maude recovered your coat, but there was no money or bills of exchange in your pocket book—only a few visiting cards bearing the name of Col. Arthur Spencer.”
The young man bowed his head. He was guilty. She would leave him without another word. She turned to go. He caught her hand, which she, indignantly, withdrew from his grasp.