"All right, it doesn't matter——."
"Never! You say you gave it to me. When? When?"
"I sent it to you the night—the day after we parted," he said.
Her eyes dilated, and she put her hand to her head.
"You—sent this—this to me? You must be out of your mind, or I am. And you say I sent it back!"
"Look here, Fin," he said soothingly, "I know what it is you want to say to me, and I want to save you the trouble and worry of saying it, so I will tell you that I know all, and that I forgive you, if that's what you want."
Her face twitched, and her eyes fell from his.
"You know all!" she faltered.
He nodded gravely.
"Yes. And I'll own up that I was mad. I came to the theater last night to have a row with you. But that's all past, clean past. And after all you didn't do me any damage, Fin—not the damage you meant to," he corrected himself as the thought of his coming marriage flashed across him. "It would have been all up a tree with me if a—a friend hadn't found the money at the last moment; but as it turned out we got the best of you and your friend, Mr. Ralph Duncombe."