There was mystery in the lovely dusk of Diane's eyes--and discontent--and something mute and wistful crying for expression.
"I've a proposition to make," said Carl lightly.

"It's partly commercial, partly belated justice, partly eugenic and partly personal." "Your money is quite gone, is it not ?" asked Diane, raising finely arched expressive eyebrows.
"It is," admitted Carl ruefully.

"My career as a bibulous meteor is over.

Last night, after an exquisite shower of golden fire, I came tumbling to earth in the fashion of meteors, a disillusioned stone.

In other words--stone broke.