"Go to the devil, Joe," said Arthur, smiling, suddenly able to smile, at the Demon of Stagnation as represented by his empty table. "Have a cigarette?"
"The subject of my call demands a pipe," and he proceeded to light one. "Have you got any money, Arthur?"
"I think you're roughly acquainted with the extent of my princely income."
"Income isn't money. Capital is. Turn your income into capital, and you've got money!"
"It sounds delightfully simple, and must work well—for a time, Joe."
"I've got a real good thing. No difficulty, no risk—well, none to speak of. I thought you might like to consider it. I'm letting my friends have the first chance."
"What is it? Gold, rubber, or a new fastener for umbrellas?" Arthur was not a stranger to Joe's variegated ventures.
"It's a deal safer than any of those. Did you ever see Help Me Out Quickly?"
"Yes. I saw it at Worcester once. Quite funny!"
"Well, a fellow who put five hundred into Help Me Out Quickly drew seventeen thousand in eighteen months and is living on it still. Arthur, I've found a farce compared to which Help Me Out Quickly is like the Dead March in Saul played by the vicar's wife on a harmonium."