'I suppose so.'
'Probus must want money too. Else he would not have committed the crime of imprisoning you on a false charge of debt. Well, we need not waste time in asking why. The question is, first of all, how to get you out.'
Alice clutched her little one to her heart and her colour vanished, by which I understood the longing that was in her.
'To get me out? Madam; I have no friends in the world who could raise ten pounds.'
'Nevertheless, Mr. Will, a body may ask how much is wanted to get you out.'
'There is the alleged debt for the harpsichord of fifty-five pounds: there is also the alleged debt due to Mr. John Merridew of fifty pounds: there are the costs: and there are the fines or garnish without which one cannot leave the place.'
'Say, perhaps in all, a hundred and fifty pounds. It is not much. I think I can find a man'—she laughed—'who, out of his singular love to you, will give the money to take you out.'
'You know a man? Madame, I protest—there is no one, in the whole world—who would do such a thing.'
'Yet if I assure you——'
'Oh! Madame! Will!' Alice fell on her knees and clasped her hand. 'See! It is herself! herself!'