"You know how troublesome my creditors had become before
Christmas. The time has arrived when they must be paid, or when I--"
She stopped, and looked searchingly at the face of her companion.
"When you--what?" he asked. "What is the alternative, Paulina?"
"I think you ought to know as well as I," she answered. "I must either
pay those debts or fly from this place, and from this country,
disgraced. I appeal to you in this bitter hour of need. Can you not
help me--you, who have professed to love me?"
"Surely, Paulina, you cannot doubt my love," replied Sir Reginald;
"unhappily, there is no magical process by which the truest and purest
love can transform itself into money. I have not a twenty-pound note in
the world."
"Indeed; and the four hundred and fifty pounds you won from Lord
Caversham just before Christmas--is that money gone?"
"Every shilling of it," answered Reginald, coolly.
He had notes to the amount of nearly two hundred pounds in his desk;
but he was the last man in Christendom to sacrifice money which he
himself required, and his luxurious habits kept him always deeply in
debt.
"You must have disposed of it very speedily. Surely, it is not all
gone, Reginald. I think a hundred would satisfy my creditors, for a
time at least."
"I tell you it is gone, Paulina. I gave you a considerable sum at the
time I won the money--you should remember.
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