“You don’t know him. I wouldn’t go back to him now not if he was to come and ask me on his bended knees. I was a fool ever to think of him. And he wasn’t earning the money he said he was. The lies he told me!”
Philip thought for a minute or two. He was so deeply moved by her distress that he could not think of himself.
“Would you like me to go to Birmingham? I could see him and try to make things up.”
“Oh, there’s no chance of that. He’ll never come back now, I know him.”
“But he must provide for you. He can’t get out of that. I don’t know anything about these things, you’d better go and see a solicitor.”
“How can I? I haven’t got the money.”
“I’ll pay all that. I’ll write a note to my own solicitor, the sportsman who was my father’s executor. Would you like me to come with you now? I expect he’ll still be at his office.”
“No, give me a letter to him. I’ll go alone.”
She was a little calmer now. He sat down and wrote a note. Then he remembered that she had no money. He had fortunately changed a cheque the day before and was able to give her five pounds.
“You are good to me, Philip,” she said.