The doubt on his face deepened to something that was almost shame.
"Oh, that!" he said. "I—borrowed that."
"You borrowed it!" She repeated the words without pity. "You borrowed it from Burke's strong-box. Didn't you?"
The question was keen as the cut of a whip. It demanded an answer.
Almost involuntarily, the answer came.
"Well—yes! But—-I hoped to pay it back. I'm going to pay it back—now."
"Now!" she said, and almost laughed. Was it for this that she had staked everything—everything she had—and lost? There was bitter scorn in her next words. "You can pay it back to Donovan Kelly," she said. "He has replaced it on your behalf."
"What do you mean?" His hands were clenched. Behind his cloak of shame a fire was kindling. The glancing lightning seemed reflected in his eyes.
But Sylvia knew no fear, only an overwhelming contempt. "I mean," she said, "that to save you—to leave you a chance of getting back to solid ground—Donovan and I deceived Burke. He supplied the money, and I put it back."
"Great Jove!" said Guy. He was looking at her oddly, almost speculatively. "But Donovan never had any money to spare!" he said. "He sends it all home to his old mother."
"He gave it to me nevertheless." Sylvia's voice had a scathing note. "And—he pretended that it had come from you—that you had returned it."
"Very subtle of him!" said Guy. He considered the point for a moment or two, then swept it aside. "Well, I'll settle up with him. It'll be all right. I always pay my debts—sooner or later. So that's all right, isn't it? Say it's all right!"