"I've never given you cause to speak like that," she answered. "I made inquiries about you--I felt anxious. But they did tell me at Mother Mandarin's that they had seen nothing of you. I concluded you must have left the country again." "So I did. That Major of yours nearly spotted me last time I was here. I thought I'd better skip." "Yes, he did spot you, as you call it," replied Miriam quietly. "But I persuaded him to leave you alone. I had some difficulty. But when I told him our relationship he consented." "Damn! if I'd known that I wouldn't have skipped. Why the devil didn't you let me know?" "How could I? I couldn't find you. Where have you been?" "Oh, back to the Cape--cleared out there two days after you saw me. I didn't think it was good enough to run any risks." "Do you still call yourself Maxwell?" "No--chucked it for another." "I see," she said sorrowfully, "you are in low water again." "I swear I'm the most unfortunate man on God's earth," he whined. "I started square enough out there, and made a tidy pile. You saw for yourself last time I was pretty flush. Well, as I told you, I left my pal to look after our claim while I did a scamper round, and what did the devil do but clear out to America with the whole swag. That cleaned me out, and I had to start all afresh. But every blessed thing I touched went wrong, till I got so sick of it that I scraped what I could together, and here I am. You'll give me a lift-up, Miriam, for the last time?" "All my life I have been doing that, Jabez, and each time has been the last, hasn't it? But it is more difficult for me to help you now; you see----" "Oh, I know all about it--that husband of yours has cleared out with another woman. But I don't see you're so much the worse for that. You've got your income from the old man! 'Fact, I reckon you've done pretty well for yourself!" "I am glad you think so," she said bitterly. "Further than as a kind of banker, an orange to be squeezed, you will never understand what I am. Of what my life has been you can have no idea. You are utterly heartless, brutally callous." "Oh, stow all that preaching, Miriam, and come to the point." "That means how much have I got, I suppose? Understand then, Jabez, once for all, this is the last money I give you, and I give it you on one condition only--that you never come near me again!" "Oh, all right, no need to bother about that. How much is it?" "Thirty pounds is all I have." "Lord! what do you do with it all?--you never seem to have much about you. Wonder I do come near you--it's not worth it I'm sure." His tone had roused her. "You worthless scoundrel," she said, "to speak to me like that after all I have done for you. There is not one woman in a thousand but would have turned her back on you long since--criminal that you are!"