"No reason at all—if you'll lend me the money."
"And I tell you I can't."
"You mean that you won't."
"Take it as you please, if you're such a fool."
"No fool me—not by long chalks. Perhaps the boot's on the other leg. Not that I threaten anything."
"'Threaten'! Good God A'mighty—who be you to threaten? Best be off—or I'll threaten—and do more than threaten!"
"Strange, such a trumpet of the Lord as you are, that you never can keep your temper five minutes together with me. And yet I'm civil enough. Your education's to blame, I suppose. Well, I only ask you if you'll lend me a hundred pounds, and I only say you won't regret it if you do; but may possibly regret it if you don't. That's all."
"If I could, I wouldn't—not now. You have said that I shall regret it if I don't. And I say 'Explain that, if you want to remain my friend.'"
"I certainly shan't explain that. Only remember that those who think they stand, had sometimes better be careful lest they fall. And, as to friendship, I'm quite indifferent. If you refuse this loan you're not my friend, of course. Friendship is as friendship does. This is my way. I'll wish you good-bye and a good investment for your savings."
"Better talk this out," said Brendon; but Jarratt Weekes was already on his way. He did not answer, and did not look back. Instead, he twirled his stick, whistled, and assumed a cheerful and careless air as he departed.