“He might. I’m hoping—”
“He wouldn’t”—with conviction. “It would wreck everything. Ann, don’t be such a fool—such a fool!” Cara spoke with desperate intensity. “For God’s sake, give up this crazy plan!”
“I can’t. I must go. I’ve promised.”
Her brows drawn together, Cara reflected a few minutes in silence. She looked as though she were trying to work out a problem of some kind—balancing the pros and cons. At last:
“There’s only one way out of it,” she said slowly. “Let me go instead of you. I think—I think I could make Brett see reason, and persuade him to give those notes of hand to me instead of to you. At any rate, let me try.”
“No good,” said Ann, shaking her head. “He wouldn’t give them to you. He wants his pound of flesh”—bitterly.
“Why don’t you ask Eliot to give you the money?” demanded Cara suddenly.
A deep flush stained Ann’s cheeks.
“I’ve not fallen so low that I’ll ask the man I’m engaged to for money with which to pay another man’s debts.”
“You’d ask him if you were married”—defiantly.