"Permit me." Mr.Rae's voice, while perfectly courteous, was calmly authoritative.
"Mr.Allan," he continued, turning to the wretched young man, "what money have you at present in your pockets ?" With shaking hands young Cameron emptied upon the desk the contents of his pocketbook, from which the lawyer counted out ten one-pound notes, a half-sovereign and some silver.

"Where did you get this money, Mr.
Allan ?" The young man, still silent, drew his handkerchief from his pocket, touched his lips, and wiped the sweat from his white face.
"Mr.Allan," continued the lawyer, dropping again into a kindly voice, "a frank explanation will help us all." "Mr.Rae," said Cameron, his words coming with painful indistinctness, "I don't understand this.

I can't think clearly.

I can't remember.

That money I got from Potts; at least I must have--I have had money from no one else." "My God!" cried the Captain again.