"Why not? The Duke loves a pretty woman. You can twist him round your little finger." "I can't twist any money out of him," said Lady Jim, irritably. "More's the pity. We're on the rocks----" "You've said that twice already." "An' I'll say it again and again and again," snapped Jim. "You don't seem to realise the hole we're in." "Don't I?" she queried, with an emotion she would never have shown in society. "I realise that I have one sovereign; and you----?" "Only a fiver I intend to borrow from a sure man," said Jim; "but I say, what's to be done?" "We must go through the court." "What's the use of that? It'll only settle our debts. We want ready money. I don't care a straw about the tradesmen. Can't we let this house?" "No; the Duke says we can live in it as long as we like, but if we leave he'll take it back again." "It's like giving a boy half a crown and telling him not to spend it," said Kaimes, looking round. "If we only could! It's a jolly sort of room this, and we'd get a good rent for the house." The room was indeed pretty, being decorated in a Pompadour manner. Its walls were adorned with white paper, sprinkled with bunches of roses tied with fluttering blue ribbons, and the carpet bore the same dainty design. The furniture was of white wood, upholstered in brocade, also diversified with roses and azure streamers. There were many delicate water-colour pictures, a grate and fire-irons of polished brass, and electric lights in rose-tinted globes. Even the grey December light streaming in through the two windows could not make the apartment look anything but clean, and delicate, and dainty, and delightful. It was an ideal nest for a young couple. But this one had outlived the honeymoon, and cared very little for the ideal. "A very pretty room," said Jim, again; "and you're the prettiest thing in it, Leah." She looked at him scornfully, and then glanced around. "I hate all this frippery" she said contemptuously. "Something more massive would suit me better." "Well, you are a kind of Cleopatra, y' know."