His carefully calculated plan was to be thwarted by a girl.
"She's a dear," cried Walter Hine.

Having made the admission, he let himself go.

His vanity pricked him to lyrical flights.

"She's a dear, she's a sob, she would never let me go, she's my little girl." Such was Sylvia's reward for engaging in a struggle which she loathed for the salvation of Walter Hine.

She was jubilantly claimed by him as his little girl in a money-lender's office.