"You have heard the news?" asked Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence, turning sharply in her chair and looking at Colville with an expression of sudden relief. She carried a handkerchief in her hand, but her eyes were dry. She was, after all, only a forerunner of those who now propose to manage human affairs. And even in these later days of their great advance, they have not left their pocket-handkerchiefs behind them. "I was told by one of the crowd," replied Colville, with a side smile full of sympathy for Turner, "that the--er--bank had come to grief." "Was just telling Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence," said Turner, imperturbably, "that it is too early in the day to throw up the sponge and cry out that all is lost." "All!" echoed Colville, angrily. "But do you mean to say--Why, surely, there is generally something left." Turner shrugged his shoulders and sat in silence, gnawing the middle joint of his thumb. "But I must have the money!" cried Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence. "It is most important, and I must have it at once. I withdraw it all. See, I brought my cheque-book with me. And I know that there are over a hundred thousand pounds in my account. As well as that, you hold securities for two hundred and fifty thousand more--my whole fortune. The money is not yours: it is mine. I draw it all out, and I insist on having it." Turner continued to bite his thumb, and glanced at her without speaking. "Now, damn it all, Turner!" said Colville, in a voice suddenly hoarse; "hand it over, man." "I tell you it is gone," was the answer. "What? Three hundred and fifty thousand pounds? Then you are a rogue! You are a fraudulent trustee! I always thought you were a damned scoundrel, Turner, and now I know it. I'll get you to the galleys for the rest of your life, I promise you that." "You will gain nothing by that," returned the banker, staring at the date-card in front of him. "And you will lose any chance there is of recovering something from the wreck. Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence had better take the advice of her lawyer--in preference to yours." "Then I am ruined!" said that lady, rising, with an air of resolution. She was brave, at all events. "At the present moment, it looks like it," admitted Turner, without meeting her eye. "What am I to do?" murmured Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence, looking helplessly round the room and finally at the banker's stolid face. "Like the rest of us, I suppose," he admitted. "Begin the world afresh. Perhaps your friends will come forward." And he looked calmly toward Colville. Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence's face suddenly flushed, and she turned away toward the door. Turner rose, laboriously, and opened it. "There is another staircase through this side door," he said, opening a second door, which had the appearance of a cupboard. "You can avoid the crowd."