"You want them?" she said, as if mystified; then her face grew crimson for an instant, but paled again as she leant forward. "You mean—you can't mean, Percy, that you would sell the diamonds? Oh, I see what that telegram means; you've been betting again! You promised me you wouldn't. But a promise isn't much to you. You've been betting again, and you've lost a great deal of money."
"You've guessed it right the very first time," he said, with an attempt at a laugh; but the sweat had gathered on his forehead and he wiped it away with a shaking hand. "It's Skylark. He was a dead certainty; I got the tip straight from the stable; they must have pulled him; they must have sold me. But I've got to pay up; I've got to. Do you hear? If I can't find the money by Monday week, I shall be posted. I suppose you know what that means?"
"You'll be ruined," she said in a low voice.
"Cut by everybody; chucked out of every club, marked for life. Yes; sounds pretty black, doesn't it?"
"Is there no other way of getting the money?" she asked, wearily.
He shook his head. "If you knew anything at all, you'd know there isn't," he said, sullenly. "The old man has just paid some biggish debts for me. That was what the row was about the other night. He warned me that it was the last I'd have from him for some time, and he'll keep his word. Curse him!"
Miriam, accustomed as she was to his bad language, shrank.
"Percy! Your own father!" she whispered, with a shudder.
"Oh, don't go into heroics!" he said. "You'd curse everything and everybody, if you were in the plight I am. And look here, you've got to help me. You and the old man have been getting on better than I expected; if he hasn't taken a downright fancy to you, he's got used to you and treats you civilly. Can't you give him a hint about the diamonds? See here!" He leant forward, his hand gripping the table, the sweat gathering on his face again, his weak eyes bulging in his terrible eagerness. "I could raise money enough on the things to tide me over this bit of bad luck until I struck a winner. Directly he'd given them to you, we'd go up to town; he wouldn't know whether you were wearing them or not. But there! if it comes to that, we could easily get them copied in paste; they imitate them so closely you can't tell the real from the sham. Fact. Why, half the women in London are wearing shams, and nobody's any the wiser."
She rose, her hand clutching at the lace on her bosom.