“‘“Why did you do it?” she asked as soon as she could speak.
“‘And I said: “We’ve been foolish––trying to keep up with Harry and the rest of them. It was my fault. I ought to have told you that I couldn’t go the pace.”
“‘She saw the truth in a flash, and the old-fashioned woman in her got to work.
“‘“Roger, get up and dress yourself,” said she. “We will go and see your partners to-night. We will go together, for I am as guilty as you. We will tell them the truth and beg for time. Maybe we can get the money.”
“‘We started in our motor-car about one o’clock for the city, on dark and muddy roads. Some ten miles out we broke an axle and left car and driver and went on afoot. My wife wouldn’t wait. No trains were running. But we could get a trolley five miles down the road. So we went on in the dark and silence. I put my arm around her, and not a word passed between us for an hour or so. I don’t know what she was thinking of, but I was trying to count my follies. It began to rain, and I felt sorry for Bess, and took off my coat and threw it over her.’
“‘“I don’t mind the rain,” she said. “It will cool me.”
“‘We were a sight when we got to the trolley, and just before daylight we rang the bell of the senior partner. Our weariness and muddy shoes and rain-soaked garments were a help to us. They touched his heart, sir. Anyhow, he gave me a week of grace in which to make good. I must get the 113 money somehow, and I want your advice about it.’
“‘I’m glad of one part of it all,’ I said––‘that you have discovered each other and learned that you are human beings of a pretty good sort. I’ve much more respect for both of you than I ever had before.’
“He looked at me in surprise.