When she had drunk the tea she said she felt a little better.
"Now," said William, "let's 'ear all about it. Esther has told you, no doubt, that we intend to do all we can to help you."
"You can't help me…. I'm done for," she replied dolefully.
"I don't know about that," said William. "You gave that brute Bill Evans the plate to pawn, so far as I know."
"There isn't much more to tell. He said the horse was sure to win. He was at thirty to one at that time. A thousand to thirty. Bill said with that money we could buy a public-house in the country. He wanted to settle down, he wanted to get out of—I don't want to say nothing against him. He said if I would only give him this chance of leading a respectable life, we was to be married immediately after."
"He told you all that, did he? He said he'd give you a 'ome of your own, I know. A regular rotter; that man is about as bad as they make 'em. And you believed it all?"
"It wasn't so much what I believed as what I couldn't help myself. He had got that influence over me that my will wasn't my own. I don't know how it is—I suppose men have stronger natures than women. I 'ardly knew what I was doing; it was like sleep-walking. He looked at me and said, 'You'd better do it.' I did it, and I suppose I'll have to go to prison for it. What I says is just the truth, but no one believes tales like that. How long do you think they'll give me?"
"I hope we shall be able to get you out of this scrape. You got thirty pounds on the plate. Esther has told you that I'm ready to lend you the money to get it out."
"Will you do this? You're good friends indeed…. But I shall never be able to pay you back such a lot of money."
"We won't say nothing about paying back; all we want you to do is to say that you'll never see that fellow again."