"I wish I could," she said in a frightened voice. "Do you mean to say that you really want it back?"
"Why, of course. You haven't spent it? Oh, if you have I am ruined—ruined for life."
"No, I have not spent it; but the fact is I—What a little wretch that
Maggie was to tell!"
"She couldn't help herself; I made her. Now, speak out, Carrie. Oh, we need not go indoors. Where is the money? Please, please, Carrie, let me have it at once."
Elma's troubled face, her trembling hands, the anxiety depicted all over her nervous little figure, could not but show Carrie that there was something serious in the wind.
"Well," she said, "I am awfully sorry. I—I just did it in a fit of mischief. I read that letter which Kitty Malone wrote to you, and it seemed to throw light on some of your actions which had puzzled me of late. I went to your drawer and found the money, and thought I would give it to Sam to keep for you."
"To Sam Raynes?" cried Elma, backing a few steps, her voice assuming a tone of terror.
"Yes. Do be careful, Elma, or you'll fall right down into the area. Why shouldn't I lend it to Sam Raynes?"
"Lend it?"
"Well, well, it's all the same; I asked him to keep it for me."