“You are addressing the pauper of Spider Court.”
“Jack, what do you mean?”
“I mean that the poor old fellow has died and left me nothing—not even a mourning-ring.”
“I’m very sorry. Left you nothing, my dear old man!”
“Don’t pity me. I can’t stand that. Say serves you right, say anything. After all, what did I deserve?”
“But you expected something,” said Leonard.
“Yes, and no. I expected nothing till I got there, and then did. I saw him for a few minutes before he died, and he said—certainly said—that I—well, that there would be something for me.”
“And there is nothing.”
“Not a stiver. Mind I don’t complain, Len. I didn’t deserve it.”
“Where has it all gone? He was a rich man, was he not?” asked Leonard.