"It's very simple," said the girl. "I have got to pay two hundred pounds and I haven't a penny."
"Bridge?" Ben asked.
"Poker," said the girl. "I can hold my own fairly well at bridge, but poker is too much for me. I've done with it. Can you tell me what to do? I'm at my wits' end, Miss Staveley. It's terrible."
"You poor thing," said Ben. "But, you know, this isn't my line at all. I'm here for ordinary cases, such as finding houses and chauffeurs and all that kind of thing. This isn't my line at all. Have you no one at home to confide in?"
"Oh, no," said the girl quickly. "No one. That would be impossible."
"Your father?"
"My father!" the girl exclaimed, with dilating eyes. Then she laughed. "You don't know my father."
"But surely you must have friends?"
"I don't seem to have any friends quite of that sort," said the girl. "There are plenty of people I know, but some I wouldn't ask a favour of for the world, and the others either wouldn't have any money or wouldn't lend it. I've been going over their names again and again and they all seem wrong."