‘My dear lady,’ he said, blandly, ‘pray attend to your medicine bottles and leave my domestic affairs alone; you certainly understand the one, but I doubt your ability to come to any conclusion regarding the other.’
‘Fine words don’t butter no parsnips,’ retorted Mrs Pulchop, viciously; ‘and if Pulchop weren’t an Apoller, he had a kind heart.’
‘Spare me these domestic stories, please,’ said Vandeloup, coldly, ‘they do not interest me in the least; since my “wife”,’ with a sneer, ‘has gone, I will leave your hospitable roof. I will send for all my property either today or to-morrow, and if you make out your account in the meantime, my messenger will pay it. Good day!’ and without another word Vandeloup walked slowly off down the path, leaving Mrs Pulchop speechless with indignation.
He went into town first, to the City of Melbourne Bank, and cashed Meddlechip’s cheque for six hundred pounds, then, calling a hansom, he drove along to the Hibernian Bank, where he had an account, and paid it into his credit, reserving ten pounds for his immediate use. Then he reentered his hansom, and went along to the office of a stockbroker, called Polglaze, who was a member of ‘The Bachelors’, and in whose hands Vandeloup intended to place his business.
Polglaze was a short, stout man, scrupulously neatly dressed, with iron grey hair standing straight up, and a habit of dropping out his words one at a time, so that the listener had to construct quite a little history between each, in order to arrive at their meaning, and the connection they had with one another.
‘Morning!’ said Polglaze, letting the salutation fly out of his mouth rapidly, and then closing it again in case any other word might be waiting ready to pop out unknown to him.
Vandeloup sat down and stated his business briefly.
‘I want you to buy me some Magpie Reef shares,’ he said, leaning on the table.
‘Many?’ dropped out of Polglaze’s mouth, and then it shut again with a snap. ‘Depends on the price,’ replied Vandeloup, with a shrug; ‘I see in the papers they are four shillings.’
Mr Polglaze took up his share book, and rapidly turned over the leaves—found what he wanted, and nodded.