"Oscar, you terrify me!" she cried out.
"What debts are these that you owe?" he asked, from between his parted lips.
Was the dreaded moment come, then! A low moan escaped her.
"Four thousand and some hundred pounds to Damereau, the milliner! How much more to others?"
"Oh, Oscar, if you look and speak like that, you will kill me."
"I ask how much more?" he repeated, passing by her words as the idle wind. "Tell me the truth, or I shall feel tempted to thrust you from my home, and advertise you."
She wished the carpet would open and let her in; she hid her face. Oscar held her, and repeated the question: "How much?"
"Six thousand pounds—in all—about that. Not more, I think."
He released her then with a jerk. Selina began to cry like a school-girl.
"Are you prepared to go out and work for your living, as I must do?" he panted. "I have nothing to keep you on, and shall not have for years. If they throw me into a debtor's prison tomorrow, I cannot help it."