Suddenly he had changed his position. He was beside her on the ground, facing her, staring her out of countenance. "We may as well get the clear of this right now----" "It is needlessly clear to me, Mr. Hammond." "But not to me. In the first place----" "I will not trouble you----" "It is no trouble. In the first place, has that fellow followed you, spoken to you before?" "Never--never like that." She wondered whether he had noticed her unsuccessful effort to rise and put an end to the interview. "Do you know who he is?" "He is the junior member of the firm I work for." "_What!_ Well, I _am_ glad I smashed him." Then he added quickly, "This, of course, puts an end to your going there, at once. You've been at it too long anyway. It's stopped being a joke, and as a pose----" "'Pose.'" The intonation was subtle. A moment's bewilderment, and he burst out, "You're not doing this because you--_have_ to?" "That--or something." "But--but--Good Lord, child! Where is your money?" With pomp and ceremony--but languidly withal, for her head was beginning to ache, and she wanted desperately to cry--she laid her purse in his hand. But she did not look at him. The big hand closed over the flat little thing impatiently. "I am referring to your bank account." "And by what right----" "We'll settle that later. The banks have opened up again----" "That's all I have." "But what has become--You're not going to faint?" "No." "Then what has become----" Quite against her will she was beginning to find herself faintly amused. Of all pigheaded, impertinent people, this individual with whom she had hardly had more than five minutes' conversation, except at meal times during the past six weeks, was certainly the worst. "I really must know, Miss Stanton, what has become----" "I gave it away." "You--gave it--_away_!" Italics could never do justice to his intonation. He was staring at her as though he considered her demented. "To whom?" came his indignant question. After all, why not tell him? It was none of his business; and he was desperately impertinent; but she was desperately forlorn; and, though it could not better the situation to talk about it, it might better her feelings. She slipped farther down against her rock; and he bent forward, listening intently. "I gave it to--a relative. She was living with me at the time of the fire. We had only just come up from Los Angeles--because I wanted to--I had some property here; all my income came from it; and I felt I ought to know more about it--in case anything happened. And after the earthquake she acted as though I had led her up to the--jaws of death--and pushed her in--and later she was so afraid of typhoid--and everything. And so--at last, when the banks opened up again--I gave her all the money I had in the bank--and she went East right away--and I stayed here." "With nothing?"