his head in his strong arms. Sitting at his side I told him, very gently, the thing as I saw it.
"We must think of Edith, old chap," said I. "It is hard for us both—but we are men."
"You are," he moaned.
"And so must you be," I answered.
He writhed as he lay. "My God, my God!" he moaned. "What a fool! what a fool! It was my only way out, Frank. I was cornered, trapped, half mad and half drunk. I was carrying a lot of stock and was knocked galleywest in this flurry. Another day and I would have been all right. My brokers were howling like wolves for margin. I tried to get it over the baccarat table—and lost. To have got sold out would have meant ruin. And it was Edith's money. The sale of the pearls was barely enough to tide me over. I sold them outright to get more money and because I did not see how I could restore them—what story I could tell. I have just had a telegram; the market is up again."
"So much the better," said I, briskly. "Now settle up, John. Sell out, then settle with Rosenthal. Don't bother about my part of it. Think of the debt I owe to Edith. I ought to welcome the chance of squaring it. It will hurt her to think that I broke my word—but I can say something to cheer her. I will let her think that I am morally lacking—constitutionally wrong. Brace up, old man."
I talked to him for half an hour. Finally, I said:
"See here, John, I'm not going to let you off scot-free. I want a promise from you. If you will give it, I'll be actually glad of the whole business."
