Of course I haven't been to bed, and I've spent the night in writing out a statement of all my dealings for the past fifteen months.

Here it is--and here are my pass-books." Will took the paper, a half-sheet of foolscap, one side almost covered with figures.

At a glance he saw that the statement was perfectly intelligible.

The perusal of a few lines caused him to look up in astonishment.
"You mean to say that between last September and the end of the year you lost twenty-five thousand pounds ?" "I did." "And you mean to say that you still went on with your gambling ?" "Things were getting bad in Ailie Street, you know." "And you did your best to make them desperate." Sherwood's head seemed trying to bury itself between his shoulders; his feet hid themselves under the chair, he held his hat in a way suggestive of the man who comes to beg.
"The devil of the City got hold of me," he replied, with a miserable attempt to look Warburton in the face.
"Yes," said Will, "that's clear.

Then, a month ago, you really possessed only nine thousand pounds ?" "That was all I had left, out of nearly forty thousand." "What astonishes me is, that you won from time to time." "I did!" exclaimed Godfrey, with sudden animation.