"What's doing, Gav?" he said. "Who's the letter from?"
"Oh, business--business" said Gavan Blake.
"What's doing with you?"
"Doing! By Gad, I'm broke. The old man won't give me a copper. What
about Saturday? Are you going to the Court at Ballarook?"
"Yes. I've got a couple of cases there. And I've just got a letter
from Mrs. Gordon, asking me to stay the night at Kuryong."
"Ho! My oath! Stop at Kuryong, eh? That's cause you saved the
heiress? Well, go in and win. You won't know us when you marry
the owner of Kuryong. What's she like, Gav? Pretty girl, ain't she?
Has she any sense?"
"Much as you have," growled Blake.
"Oh, don't get nasty. Only I thought you were a bit shook on the
governess there--what about that darnce at the Show ball, eh? I
say, you couldn't lend us a tenner till Saturday?"
"No, I could not--" And this was the literal truth, for Gavan Blake
had run himself right out of money, and was living on credit--not
an enviable position at any time, and one doubly insupportable to
a man of his temperament. And again his thoughts went back to the
girl he had saved, and he pondered how different things might have
been--might, perhaps, still be.