The Relentless City

by E. F. Benson

'I can't tell you accurately,' he said. 'But I am afraid they are rather large.'

'Well, a million pounds,' suggested Mr. Palmer dryly. Bertie laughed; already he could laugh.

'No, not quite,' he said. 'But between ten thousand and twenty. About twelve I should say.'

'Confiding people, English tradesmen,' remarked Mr. Palmer. 'Been going to the Jews?'

'No.'

'Well, don't. My house doesn't charge so high. Now, I'm not going to give you the money. I shall deduct it from the settlement I am going to make, the amount of which I have already determined on. Only I shall give you that at once, and ask you to pay them at once.'

'You are most generous,' said Bertie. 'I can't thank you.'

'Don't, then. Are you sure thirteen thousand will cover them? Mind, it doesn't matter to me; it is all deducted.'

'I am sure it will.'

Mr. Palmer did not answer, but drew a chair to the table and wrote the cheque.