and felt it warmly pressed.

They were together in the room; neither had spoken. Will pointed to
a chair, but did not himself sit down.

"I suppose it's all true, Warburton," began the other in a low
voice, "but I can't believe it yet. I seem to be walking in a
nightmare; and when you gave me your hand at the door, I thought for
a second that I'd just woke up."

"Sit down," said Will, "and let's have it out. Give me the details."

"That's exactly what I wish to do. Of course I haven't been to bed,
and I've spent the night in writing out a statement of all my
dealings for the past fifteen months. Here it is--and here are my
pass-books."

Will took the paper, a half-sheet of foolscap, one side almost
covered with figures. At a glance he saw that the statement was
perfectly intelligible. The perusal of a few lines caused him to
look up in astonishment.

"You mean to say that between last September and the end of the year
you lost twenty-five thousand pounds?"

"I did."

"And you mean to say that you still went on with your gambling?"

"Things were getting bad in Ailie Street, you know."