"Oh, it is a family matter." She evaded his eyes. "There is no use
going over it, but it has thoroughly undone me."

"Tell me about it," he urged. "Why not?"

Eyes downcast, she hesitated a moment. Then: "You've heard me speak of
my brother Hal, who is in business in Texas. You know he and I are the
only ones of my family left. He is still a boy to me, and I have
always loved him. He is in trouble. He has been speculating and taking
money that did not belong to him. Through him his house has lost ten
thousand dollars. I've had six appealing letters from his wife--she is
desperate."

"Oh, I see," Mostyn said. "That is bad. Is--is he in prison?"

"No--not yet." Marie choked up. "The firm has an idea that his friends
may help him restore the money, and they won't prosecute if he can
make the loss good. He has been hoping to get help out there among his
wife's people, but has failed. The time is nearly up--only two days
left, and I--My God, do you think I can live after that boy is put in
jail? It has made a fiend of me, for if I hadn't taken up with you I
would have gone to Texas with him and it might not have happened.
There is a streak of bad blood in our family. My father was none too
good. He was like you, able to dodge the law, that's all. But poor Hal
didn't cover his tracks."

"Stop, Marie!" Mostyn demanded, in rising anger. "What do you mean by
mentioning _me_ in that sort of connection?"