So convinced did he become of this fact that he shouldered his way through the crowd, and leaning over Lady Kathleen's chair, whispered into her ear: “Don't be alarmed. I see you have been greatly upset. Please allow me to assist you.”
The man at her right hand scowled angrily, but Westerham turned to him with an urbane smile. “As you do not seem to be playing,” he said, “perhaps you will allow me to have your chair?”
Nor had the man any option but to vacate his seat.
Westerham's spirits rose as for the first time in his life he found himself seated by Kathleen's side, playing on her behalf, to win a desperate game.
But the girl's inspiration was gone, and even his skill at this form of gambling availed him nothing. Time after time they lost until practically nothing remained of the great pile of money which had been stacked on the table before Lady Kathleen when he had entered the room.
The girl watched the money dwindle with terrified eyes, her face growing paler and paler until it was ashy white.
Westerham sought to console her. “Don't despair,” he whispered. “I think I have enough with me to see us through.”
When he had at first sat down to assist her she had stared at him with considerable astonishment. Now she appeared utterly confused.
“I don't understand,” she said in a low voice. “You have certainly done your best to help me, but I cannot see why you wish me to win.”