“I’ve lost it all. Every penny I had in the world.”
“Tough!” interpolated Mr Brown judicially. “I was broke once way out in a tank-town in Oklahoma. The manager skipped with our salaries. Last we saw of him he was doing the trip to Canada in nothing flat.”
“But how?” gasped Nelly.
“It happened about the time we met in London. Do you remember Freddie Rooke, who was at our house that after-noon?”
A dreamy look came into Nelly’s eyes. There had not been an hour since their parting when she had not thought of that immaculate sportsman. It would have amazed Freddie, could he have known, but to Nelly Bryant he was the one perfect man in an imperfect world.
“Do I!” she sighed ecstatically.
Mr Brown shot a keen glance at her.
“Aha!” he cried facetiously. “Who is he, Nelly? Who is this blue-eyed boy?”
“If you want to know,” said Nelly, defiance in her tone, “he’s the fellow who gave me fifty pounds, with no strings tied to it,—get that!—when I was broke in London! If it hadn’t been for him, I’d be there still.”
“Did he?” cried Jill. “Freddie!”