Without a word, beyond a word, Peggy took it and read. Yes, there it was. No honour among thieves! None between her and Fricker! Stay, he had said he would not tell Trix; he had never said or written that he would not tell his partner Beaufort Chance. The letter of the bond! And he had professed to disapprove of Shylock! All that she had ever said about his honourable dealing, all that handsome testimonial of hers, Peggy took back on the spot. Thus did the whole of the beautiful scheme go awry! 'Trix dearest----' she began. 'My question, please,' said Trix Trevalla. But she had not the control to stop there. 'All of you, all of you!' she broke out passionately. 'Even you, Peggy! Have I no friend left--nobody who'll treat me openly, not play with me as if I were a child, and a silly child? What can I believe? Oh, it's too hard for me!' Again her face sank between her hands; again was the awakening very bitter to her. They sat silent. Both were loyal; both felt as though they were found out in iniquity. 'You did it?' asked Trix in a dull voice, looking across at Peggy. There was no way out of that. But where was the exultation of the achievement, where the glory? 'Forgive me, dear; forgive me,' Peggy murmured, almost with a sob. 'Your own money?' 'Mine!' echoed Peggy, between a sob and a laugh now. 'Whose?' Trix asked. There was no answer. She turned on Tommy. 'Whose?' she demanded again. They would not answer. It was _peine forte et dure_; they were crushed, but they made no answer. Trix rose from her chair. Her manner was tragic, and no pretence went to give that impression. 'I--I'm not equal to it,' she declared. 'It drives me mad. But I have one friend still. I'll go to him. He'll find out the truth for me and tell it me. He'll make you take back your money and give me back my shares.' Irresistibly the man of business found voice in Tommy Trent. An appeal to instinct beats everything. 'Do you really suppose,' he asked, 'that old Fricker will disgorge three thousand pounds?' 'That's it!' cried Trix. 'Look what that makes of me! And I thought----' 'The money's past praying for now, anyhow,' said Tommy, in a sort of gloomy satisfaction. There is, as often observed, a comfort in knowing the worst. 'I'll go to him,' said Trix. 'I can trust him. He wouldn't betray me behind my back. He'll tell me the truth as--as I told it to him. Yes, I'll go to Mr. Newton.' It was odd, but neither of them had anticipated the name. It struck on them with all the unexpectedness of farce. On a moment's reflection it had the proper inevitability of tragedy. Tommy was blankly aghast; he could make nothing of it. In all its mingled effect, the poignancy of its emotion, the ludicrousness of its coincidences, the situation was more than Peggy Ryle could bear. She fell to laughing feebly--laughing though miserable at heart.