1849.
LONDON:
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
Mr. Jericho when can you let me have some Money?
A MAN MADE OF MONEY.
CHAPTER I.
“Mr. Jericho, when can you let me have some money?”
This curious question was coldly put by a gentlewoman in morning undress to a man in gown and slippers. The reader, who is always permitted to wear the old cloak of the old stage mystery—the cloak that maketh invisible—must at once perceive the tender relation that lives and flourishes between the interesting person who puts this familiar interrogative, and the being who suffers it. They are man and wife. The marriage certificate is legible in every line of Mrs. Jericho’s face. She asks for money with a placid sense of right; it may be, strengthened by the assurance that her debtor cannot escape her. For it is a social truth the reader may not have overlooked, that if a man be under his own roof, he must be at home to his own wife.
“I ask again, Mr. Jericho, when can you let me have some money?”