“Oh!”
“A very tight place. I’ve got to have some money—I’ve got to have it to-day.”
“Oh!”
“Yes. I ought to have had it yesterday, but a deal I had on fell through. You’ve got to help me, Arthur.”
“How much do you want?”
“Fifteen hundred. I’ll pay it back soon.”
“Fifteen hundred pounds?”
“Yes, of course.”
A great white light, cold and clear as the dawn of Truth, began to steal across the mind of Jones. Why had this woman come to him this morning so quickly after the defeat of Voles who held her letters? How had Voles obtained those letters? This question had occurred to him before, and this question seemed to his practical mind pregnant now with possibilities.
“What do you want the money for?” asked he.