"How much did they get on the plate?"
"Thirty pounds."
William blew a long whistle. Then, starting up in the bed, he said, "She can't stop here. If it comes out that it was through betting, it won't do this house any good. We're already suspected. There's that old sweetheart of yours, the Salvation cove, on the lookout for evidence of betting being carried on."
"She'll go away in the morning. But I thought that you might lend her the money to get the plate out."
"What! thirty pounds?"
"It's a deal of money, I know; but I thought that you might be able to manage it. You've been lucky over this race."
"Yes, but think of all I've lost this summer. This is the first bit of luck I've had for a long while."
"I thought you might be able to manage it."
Esther stood by the bedside, her knee leaned against the edge. She seemed to him at that moment as the best woman in the world, and he said—
"Thirty pounds is no more to me than two-pence-halfpenny if you wish it,
Esther."