"No--of course! You ought not to have helped him at all. I can't bear--"
He bowed, and she stopped, ashamed. "How much does he owe altogether?"
"About thirteen hundred pounds. It isn't much, of course. But there is
something else--"
"Worse?"
Rosek nodded.
"I am afraid to tell you; you will think again perhaps that I am trying
to make capital out of it. I can read your thoughts, you see. I cannot
afford that you should think that, this time."
Gyp made a little movement as though putting away his words.
"No; tell me, please."
Rosek shrugged his shoulders.
"There is a man called Wagge, an undertaker--the father of someone you
know--"
"Daphne Wing?"
"Yes. A child is coming. They have made her tell. It means the
cancelling of her engagements, of course--and other things."
Gyp uttered a little laugh; then she said slowly:
"Can you tell me, please, what this Mr.--Wagge can do?"
Again Rosek shrugged his shoulders.
"He is rabid--a rabid man of his class is dangerous. A lot of money will
be wanted, I should think--some blood, perhaps."
He moved swiftly to her, and said very low:
"Gyp, it is a year since I told you of this. You did not believe me
then. I told you, too, that I loved you. I love you more, now, a hundred
times! Don't move! I am going up to Gustav."
He turned, and Gyp thought he was really going; but he stopped and came
back past the line of the window.
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