"And he didn't come," Whitaker wound up for her, when she faltered.
"No."
"And you wrote and telegraphed, and he didn't answer."
"Yes—"
"How much money of yours did he take with him?" Whitaker pursued.
There was a brief pause of astonishment. "What do you know about that?" she demanded.
"I know a good deal about that type of man," he said grimly.
"I didn't have any money to speak of, but I had some jewellery—my mother's—and he was to take that and pawn it for money to get married with."
"I see."
To his infinite relief the waiter interrupted them. The girl in her turn went to one of the windows, standing with her back to the room, while Whitaker admitted the man with his tray. When they were alone once more, he fixed the place and drew a chair for her.