“I should hope not,” he cried. “A tradesman stands to win or to lose. He allows a margin for bad debts. I would have paid it if I could. I couldn’t, and so I wiped the slate clean. No one in his senses would dream of spending all the money that I make in Bradfield upon the tradesmen of Avonmouth.”
“Suppose they come down upon you?”
“Well, we’ll see about that when they do. Meanwhile I am paying ready money for every mortal thing that comes up the door steps. They think so well of me here that I could have had the whole place furnished like a palace from the drain pipes to the flagstaff, only I determined to take each room in turn when I was ready for it. There’s nearly four hundred pounds under this one ceiling.”
There came a tap at the door, and in walked a boy in buttons.
“If you please, sir, Mr. Duncan wishes to see you.”
“Give my compliments to Mr. Duncan, and tell him he may go to the devil!”
“My dear Jimmy!” cried Mrs. Cullingworth.
“Tell him I am at dinner; and if all the kings in Europe were waiting in the hall with their crowns in their hands I wouldn’t cross that door mat to see them.”
The boy vanished, but was back in an instant.
“Please, sir, he won’t go.”