She looked into my face so pleadingly that I could not refuse her; besides, it had always been my custom to confide in Sheilah ever since I was a little wee chap but little bigger than herself, and somehow it seemed to come natural now. What's more, if the truth were known, I think it was just that very idea that had brought me down to see her.
'It's this way, Sheilah,' I stammered, hardly knowing how to begin. 'Like the fool I am, I've been playing cards up at Whispering Pete's for the last month or so, and, well, the long and the short of it is, I've lost more money than I can pay.'
She didn't reproach me, being far too clever for that. She simply put her little hand in mine, and looked rather sorrowfully into my face.
'Well, Jim?' she said.
'Well, to make a long story short, I owe Whispering Pete a hundred pounds. He wrote asking me for the money. I couldn't pay, so I went over and told him straight out that I couldn't.'
'That was brave of you!'
'He received me very nicely and generously, and told me not to bother myself any more about it. Then I found there was something I could do for him in return.'
'And what was that?'
'Why, to ride his horse for the Cup at the township races next month.'
'Oh, Jim—you won't surely do that, will you?'