"Yes, I'm afraid I owe a lot of money, but must we--just to-night?" I
asked.
"I'm afraid it's safest. It is not alone that you will be able to forget
the matter sooner if you confide in me now, but how can we know that these
proceedings will not be repeated if I don't attend promptly to everything?
Some one else may bring suit tomorrow, and another the next day, giving
you no peace. I'm sorry, but it is the best way. Tell me everything now,
and I will arrange with them all, and need never mention the subject
again. Then you can be at peace."
"Well, if I must--"
It seemed impossible to go on. Even the thought of how good he was and how
he had taken up my burden when it was too heavy for my own strength made
it harder to face the horrible business.
"--I owe ten dollars to Kitty Reid, and about twenty-five to Cadge," I
admitted. "I didn't mean to borrow of them, but I had to do it, just
lately--"
"Poor child!" said John, stroking my hand with his big, warm paw, as he
would a baby's. "Poor child!"
"I've bills somewhere for everything else--"
It was like digging among the ruins of my past greatness to pull out the
crumpled papers from my writing desk, reminding me of the gay scenes that
for me were no more; but John quietly took them from me, and began
smoothing them and laying them in methodical piles and making notes of
amounts and names.
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