"Well," she said, "I am awfully sorry. I--I just did it in a fit of
mischief. I read that letter which Kitty Malone wrote to you, and it
seemed to throw light on some of your actions which had puzzled me of
late. I went to your drawer and found the money, and thought I would
give it to Sam to keep for you."
"To Sam Raynes?" cried Elma, backing a few steps, her voice assuming a
tone of terror.
"Yes. Do be careful, Elma, or you'll fall right down into the area. Why
shouldn't I lend it to Sam Raynes?"
"Lend it?"
"Well, well, it's all the same; I asked him to keep it for me."
"I'll go to him at once and get it," said Elma, preparing to run down
the steps.
Carrie caught her by the arm.
"I'm awfully sorry," she said, "but it's no use, he--he says we cannot
have it for a week, perhaps a fortnight. He is doing a little deal with
it, as he expresses it. He says perhaps we'll have it back doubled."
"What can you mean, Carrie?" Elma knew nothing whatever about
speculation. That will-o'-the-wisp which leads so many astray had not
yet entered into her life.
"You need not look so miserable. Won't you like to have it back again,
not seven pounds but fourteen? and Sam says this will probably be the
case in a week or a fortnight, or at any rate in a month from now.
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