"Were there—"
"You're all right, there were no debts."
"I wouldn't have paid them," he said, in his agitation drawing out the cigar from his pocket.
"You lost track of her after the night you turned her out?" Groll said, offering him a light.
Bofinger frowned, shrugged his shoulders and leaned towards the window.
"And didn't care to—I understand. Well, she was picked up the next morning half frozen," Groll said, glancing at him, "out of her head,—two months at the Charities. After that she got a place in a traveling circus. She hung on as long as she could. She died of quick consumption."
His companion, who had gradually turned towards him, frowned in perplexity and asked:
"How do you know?"
"I was interested in the case," Groll answered carefully. "And Fargus, do you know what became of him?"