“Really, gentlemen, I cannot understand all this! I owe you nothing; neither does the late company, of which I, unfortunately, was president. You had better present your claims to the executors of Mr. Redgill’s estate. They are the proper persons to whom you should apply. I have nothing to do with all this.
“The London Insurance Company certainly closed their doors very suddenly, but I was out of town at the time, and only heard of it by letter. We have had very extensive losses of late, but, had I any capital, it would have given me infinite pleasure to meet all claims—it would, I assure you!
“In truth, I make the humiliating confession to you, gentlemen, despite your angry and unjust accusations, that I, personally, have not one penny in the world!
“Were it not for some funds, which I cannot legally touch, owned by my wife’s sister—”
Mr. Moss groaned very audibly at the words “my wife’s sister.”
“On deposit at the South Sea Bank, we should not be worth a fraction, and would be all turned out into the streets!
“But, my dear friends, why do you come to me about these affairs? I have nothing to do with them.”
All this was said with a faint smile, which was like wormwood to all present.
Mr. Moss, who flounced about the apartment like a mad morris dancer, flourished his walking-stick, and said,
“The reason I come to see you, you sanctimonious old scoundrel, is to tell you what I think of you!