“What of that? You get the money and I can find a dozen ways of investing it. Look here, Harry, you profess to by my friend, and to have confidence in my judgment, and yet you won’t trust me.”
“I trusted you over several things, and see how I lost.”
“Come, that’s unkind. A man can’t always win. There, never look back, look forward. Show some fight, and make one good plunge to get out of that miserable shop-boy sort of life.”
“Come along then.”
“You’ll go up and ask him?”
“Yes, if you’ll back me up.”
“Back you up, lad? I should think I will. Lead on, I’ll follow thee.”
“We’ll do it sensibly, then. If you speak before Uncle Luke in that theatrical way we shall come down faster then we go up.”
“I’ll talk to the old man like a young Solomon. And he shall say that never did youth choose more wisely for his friend than Harry Vine, otherwise Henri, Comte des Vignes.”
“Look here,” said Harry, peevishly—“‘otherwise Comte des Vignes.’ Why don’t you say alias at once? Why, if the old man heard that, he’d want to know how long it was since you were in a police-court. Here, you’d better stay down here.”