"She sticks to it that the promise was made, that on the strength of it she invested a certain sum of money through her solicitors, that they advanced the money on that security and you advised the investment." "I did not advise it. I advised her to give it up. I wrote to her. You took down the letter.... No, you didn't. I copied that one myself." "Have you got it? I'd better show it her." "Yes. It's--it's--confound it, it's in my private drawer." "Can't I find it?" He hesitated. He didn't like the idea of anybody, even little Barbara, rummaging in his private drawer, but he had to choose the lesser of two evils, and that letter would put the matter beyond a doubt. "Here's the key," he said, and gave it her. "It's dated October the thirtieth or thirty-first. But it's all humbug. I've reason to believe that money was never invested at all. It's all debts. She hasn't a leg to stand on. Not a leg." "Not a stump," said Barbara. "Leave her to me." She went back to the library. Mrs. Levitt's face lifted itself in excited questioning. "One moment, Mrs. Levitt." After a slightly prolonged search in Mr. Waddington's private drawer she found the letter of October tie thirty-first, and returned with it to the office. It was very short and clear: "MY DEAR ELISE: "I cannot promise anything--it depends on circumstances. But if you sent me the name and address of your solicitors it might help." "Take it," he said, "and show it her." 3 Barbara went back again to the library and her final battle with Elise. This time she had armed herself with the cheque books. Mrs. Levitt began, "Well--?" "Mr. Waddington says he is very sorry if there's any misunderstanding. I don't know whether you remember getting this letter from him?" Mrs. Levitt blinked hard as she read the letter. "Of course I remember." "You see that he could hardly have stated his position more clearly." "But--this letter is dated October the thirty-first. The promise I refer to was made long after that." "It doesn't appear so from his letters--all that I've taken down. If you can show me anything in writing--" "Writing? Mr. Waddington is a gentleman and he was my friend. I never dreamed of pinning him down to promises in writing. I thought his word was enough. I never dreamed of his going back on it. And after compromising me the way he's done." Barbara's eyebrows lifted delicately, innocently. "_Has_ he compromised you?" "He has." "How?" "Never mind how. Quite enough to start all sorts of unpleasant stories." "You shouldn't listen to them. People will tell stories without anything to start them." "That doesn't make them any less unpleasant. I should have thought the very least Mr. Waddington could do--" "Would be to pay you compensation?" "There can be no compensation in a case of this sort, Miss Madden. I'm not talking about compensation. Mr. Waddington must realize that he cannot compromise me without compromising himself."