"Oh, a precious lot of respect indeed," cried Lavinia angrily.

The date of the letter was that of the day before. The money had
consequently to be paid that very day and it was already past twelve
o'clock. If the poor young man could not pay he would at that moment be
homeless in the street and maybe arrested for debt and taken to the
Fleet or even Newgate. Hadn't she seen the poor starving debtors stretch
their hands through the "Debtors' door" in the Old Bailey and beg for
alms from the passers-by with which to purchase food? She pictured the
poor young man going through this humiliation and it made her shudder.
He was so handsome!

And all for the want of a paltry twenty-seven shillings! Twenty-seven
shillings? Was not that the exact sum of money in the purse?

"Oh, that must have been for his rent," cried Lavinia, clasping her
hands in great distress. "And he gave it to me!"

She was overwhelmed. She must return the money at once. But how? She ran
to the door. It was locked sure enough. The window? Absurd. It looked
out upon a broad gutter and was three storeys from the street. If it
were possible to lower herself she certainly could not do so in the
daytime. And by nightfall it would be too late. She sat down on the
side of the bed, buried her face in her hands and abandoned herself to
despair.

But this feeling did not last long. Lavinia sprang to her feet, flung
back her hair and secured it. Then she went once more to the window and
clambered out into the broad gutter. She hadn't any clear idea what to
do beyond taking stock of her surroundings. She looked over the parapet.