"I'm opposed to it, sir. Much too risky."
"But if it could be managed, I should be inclined to consider the project. She has undoubtedly been taken in by a plausible scoundrel."
"People who are foolish enough to do that," declared the other, stolidly, "must submit to the consequences."
"I grant you that, as a general proposition. I'm with you there, heart and soul. I can't, for a single moment, argue that you're wrong. But supposing—I only say supposing, mark you!—supposing this poor woman had a certain sum, either in cash or notes, ready at hand—"
"I've got nearly thirty pounds," I announced.
They conferred apart, and I, gripping my hands, waited anxiously for the decision. The two talked in bass undertones, with one for, one against. "There can be no hard and fast rule in these affairs; each case has to be decided on its own merits." And the answer was, "I've no wish to appear obstinate, but if it ever came out, you know as well as I do, that we should be ruined." Gradually the opposition seemed to weaken.
"Ma'am," announced the visitor who was on the side of clemency, "we have decided to accept your offer."
"Thank God!" I exclaimed.
"Your gratitude should be expressed to us. Fortunately for you, you are dealing with two of perhaps the most kind-hearted men in the whole force. Sergeant, pack up all this silver ready to take away, whilst I count the notes. And tell the chaps outside that they needn't wait."
It was indeed a relief to me to see the two prepare to go. They found the green baize bag heavy, and I suggested they should allow me to fetch a cab; they declined, and before going, gave me a lecture on the necessity, in dealing with strangers, of exercising care and even suspicion. I remarked that I could give the bank a warning not to pay the cheque when tendered, and they hinted, in duet, that I might consider myself a favourite of fortune.