"You might have ruined the child's reputation," she said angrily. "She was a fool to come here with you. Married women are fair game, Jimmie, but a girl has not learnt how to guard. It's not fair."
Sybil, with the frightened look gone from her eyes, came back to the table on the veranda.
"I owe you some money, Captain Gore Helmsley," she said clearly, "for bridge debts. It was good of you to let it stand over." She laid a cheque on the table. "Will you give me back my acknowledgments? Oliver is paying for me—we are going to be married."
Jimmie, smiling sweetly, pulled out his pocketbook, took from it a neatly-folded paper.
"And—two letters—referring to the debt," said Sybil, steadily.
"Not altogether to the debt." Jimmie laughed. "You are as unkind now, Miss Chauntsey, as you are dramatic."
"I want them," she said coldly. "You gave me your promise that I should have them back."
Jimmie took out the letters.
"I am giving them to Oliver to read, and then we'll burn them," she said simply.
"Oh, hang it!" said Gore Helmsley, blankly; "this has been a nice evening!"