"Oh, lady, ye'll do that for me?" Hester seized Betty's two hands and pressed them to her lips.
"Wait! It's understood that you give back the money—the stolen money."
"Sure! I'll tell ye where it is and you can give it back yourself."
"I'll give it to the bishop. He's on his way here now."
"The bishop? He don't know I'm here?"
"He knows nothing. I'll tell him that—I'll say that the person who took the money is sorry and—I'll save you somehow."
"You give me your promise—your promise true?"
"I give you my promise—true," repeated Betty firmly. "Where is it—the money?"
Now, briefly and humbly, Hester told the truth about the bishop's purse, acknowledging her own wrongdoing, and tracing the treasure from her capture of it on the train up to the moment of its hiding under the rose bush.
"I see," said Betty. "You dropped the purse in my golf bag when they came to search you on the train?"