"Oh, it's no good going into all that."
"I should think not," said Sir Geoffrey with a bitter laugh, "but, anyhow, I won't help you any more; men of your type never will work while they've got any relations on whom they can sponge. You give up the fiddle, as a start."
"I have," said Melville, "to a pawn-broker."
"Best place for it," grunted Sir Geoffrey unsympathetically. "I'll pay the interest for you next year, if you'll agree to leave it there."
Melville clenched his fists and walked on in silence for a few yards.
"You don't mind helping Ralph," he said, with a sneer; "he's so different, isn't he?"
"That is my own affair," Sir Geoffrey said, "but I don't mind saying I've never had to refuse him, because he has never asked me. He's a thoroughly fine fellow."
"He's a humbug," said Melville. "He's not above borrowing from me at all events. As you insist upon knowing what I did with the last two hundred and fifty I had from you, I will tell you that I gave Ralph a hundred of it."
"I don't believe you," said Sir Geoffrey. "You're a liar, Melville, and I've proved it."
"Read that," said Melville shortly.