Directly Christine came in, he noticed how pretty and dainty and young she looked; she, at least, pleased him still. He greeted her with great cordiality and with no embarrassment, and made her sit down in a chair by the fire. She was a little pale, but he did not observe that; what he noted--and noted with a touch of amusement--was that she met his eyes as seldom as possible.
"I really couldn't think to what I owed this pleasure----" he began.
"You couldn't possibly have guessed. I've got to tell you that."
He held up the letters in their envelope.
"Only two or three notes of yours--all I've got, I think."
"Notes of mine? Oh, put them in the fire! It wasn't that."
"I suppose we may as well put them in the fire," he agreed.
As the fire burnt up the letters, Christine looked at the fire and said:
He was surprised, and again perhaps a trifle amused.
"You don't suppose I should have come of my own accord? I hate coming."
"Oh, don't say that! We're always friends, always friends. But suppose you do insist on 'hating' to come--well, why have you come?"
"I couldn't help it. I refused at first, but I--I had no reason to give if I'd gone on refusing. He'd have--suspected."
"Ah!" The explanation drew an understanding nod from him.
"So I came. He's sent me to borrow money from you."
"Yes, he's in great difficulties. He wants a lot of money at once."
"But why didn't he come himself? It's rather odd to----"
"I suppose he hated it too. He has done it once. I mean, he's been to Grantley Imason. And--and he thought--you'd be more likely to do it if I asked."
"No, no, not in the least. He only thought you were--that you liked pretty women." She held out a piece of paper. "He's put it all down there. I think I'd better give it to you. It says what he wants, and when he must have it, and how he'll pay it back. I promised to tell you all that, but you'd better read it for yourself."
He took the paper from her and studied it. She looked round the room, which she had known very well. It was quite unchanged. Then she watched him while he read. He had grown older, but he had not lost his attractiveness. For a moment or two she forgot the present state of things.
"Fifteen thousand! It's a bit of money!" This remark recalled Christine's thoughts. "Has Imason lent him that?"