“Um—no. I’m very heavily insured, though.”
“Not in the Oldwives’ Friendly?” said Hopper, with a curious look, though he knew the fact well.
“Well—er—er—yes, I am,” said Max.
“They’ll go to smash,” said Hopper eagerly. “Haven’t you heard the rumours?”
“Ye-es,” faltered Max.
“The scoundrels! And you such a good man, too, who has saved up and toiled for his family. I tell you what I’d do,” he said earnestly.
“What?” cried Max, turning to him with the eagerness of one in peril.
“They must last another twelvemonth, and pay up liabilities till then.”
“Yes, they must do that, I should say,” said Max.
“Then die at once, and let your people draw the money!” cried Hopper, slapping him in the breast, and gazing at him with the most serious of aspects. “So good and self-denying! You all over.”