They've
probably nosed out something by this time."
"Come along, Miss Grant, if you're really willing to see me through
this," Dauntrey said, clinging to those bare rocks of conventionality
which still rose above the waters of despair.
"Unless," Eve broke in quickly, "you'd rather lend us enough to get us
out of the whole scrape? Some day----"
"Oh, cut that, Eve," her husband interposed. "I wouldn't take any more
of Miss Grant's money even if she'd give it, for it would be giving, not
lending."
"That depends on you. If you're so mean-spirited that you can't earn our
living, I suppose we'll have to beg the rest of our lives, unless I go
on the stage or something," said Eve. "You always do your best to crush
every idea of mine."
"Just now I can't lay my hands on any money," Mary explained gently,
anxious to keep the peace. "I was on my way----" She was about to
mention the jewellery she wished to sell, but Eve, too impatient to hear
the excuses she expected, cut her short.
"Oh, well, the next best thing is to help Dauntrey squeeze as much as he
can out of the Casino. Use your influence. I know he won't speak up for
himself. He's an English peer, when all's said and done! It would make
a big scandal if he committed suicide because he'd lost everything in
their beastly place. The papers all over the world would be full of it.
The Casino wouldn't like that much. You can point it out."
Mary shivered and felt sick. She heard Lord Dauntrey mutter something
under his breath, and saw him turn away.
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