"There are your aunts at Sandbay!"

"Oh yes, my dear little Dresden china aunts! And, you know, Mark,
there's the River Thames. I would as soon plunge into the one as take
a train to the others."

"What is to prevent you from staying here?" he asked. "If you are
tired of London, try Paris again. You can surely go where you please."

"How few are lucky enough for that!"

"I thought," said Mark, "you had the world before you."

"More likely the workhouse," answered Bridget.

"You don't mean to say you're--you're hard up!" he cried, returning to
his seat on the sofa.

"Oh, I have plenty of money at the bank," she explained. "Mark, I
detest talking about it, but I really should love to tell you. During
mother's lifetime, you must remember how comfortably we used to live.
I always had everything I wanted--for that matter, so I have until this
moment. Naturally," Bridget continued, "I believed that the house and
everything were kept up by father's books."

"Wasn't that the case?" asked Mark.

"As a matter of fact," said Bridget, "they brought in very little money
indeed."