Then suddenly she gave way, fell on her knees before him, and stretched out appealing hands.
"Oh, you are very clever; I see you have found it all out. But you will be merciful, you will not drive an unhappy woman to despair, just when she has got into safe harbour. Will you be kind enough to listen to my miserable history?"
"I will listen to anything you have got to say."
"My childhood and girlhood were most wretched and unhappy. At a time when most girls are tasting the sweets and joys of life, I had to live by my wits. I fell under the influence of a good-natured, but very wicked man."
"In other words, George Burton?" queried Hugh.
"In other words, George Burton," she repeated in the low, strangled voice that did not move Hugh very much. "I was starving when he met me and took me up. He was genuinely sorry for me. Mind you, I knew nothing of his nefarious schemes. He hid those very carefully away from me."
"But you were his decoy, if not his confederate, in the gambling saloon in Paris?"
"His decoy, perhaps, unconsciously, but never his confederate."
"And when did Tommie Esmond appear on the scene?" queried Hugh.
"Oh, much later. George got into low water and had not enough for himself. I then hunted up my uncle, who received me with open arms."