"Go on, Mr. St. Leger," Dolly repeated with an air of superiority. Poor child, she felt very weak at the time.
"I don't know what to say, 'pon my honour," the young man averred. "I have nothing to say, really. And I am afraid of troubling you, besides."
Dolly could not speak now. She preserved her calm air of attention; that was all.
"It's really nothing," St. Leger went on; "but I suppose, really, Mr. Copley may have lost some money. That's nothing, you know. Every man does, now and then. He loses, and then he gains."
"How?" said Dolly gravely.
"Oh, well, there are various ways. Betting, you know, and cards. Everybody bets; and of course he can't always win, or betting would stop. That's nothing, Miss Copley."
"Have you any idea how much he has lost?"
"Haven't an idea. People don't tell, naturally, how hard they are hit. I am sure it is nothing you need be concerned about."
"Are not people often ruined in that way?" Dolly asked, still preserving her outside calm.
"Well, that does happen, of course, now and then, with careless people. Mr. Copley is not one of that sort. Not that kind of man."