“What do you know about her?” he cried.
“Nothing, save what my eyes tell me.”
“They seem to tell you a remarkable lot about my affairs.”
“Possibly. Meanwhile I want you to give me your word of honor that you will not make any further attempt on your life during the next seven days.”
“The word of honor of a disgraced man! Will you accept it?”
“Most certainly.”
“You are a queer chap, and no mistake. Very well, I give it. At the same time, I cannot help dying of starvation. I lost my last cent to-night at roulette. I am hopelessly involved in debts which I cannot pay. I have no prospects and no friends. You are not doing me a kindness, my dear fellow, in keeping me alive, even for seven days.”
“You might have obtained your fare to London from the authorities of the Casino?”
“Hardly. I lost very little at roulette. I am not such a fool. My losses are nearly all in bets over the pigeon-shooting match which I ought to have won. I was backing myself at a game where I was apparently sure to succeed.”