“And I one hundred,” said Sir Matthew pompously.
“My turn first,” said Sir Harry, laughing. “Now, Barclay, two hundred, and no nonsense.”
Barclay shook his head, but his money was safe with Sir Harry, for he already held certain deeds that would cover principal and his large interest.
“Now, Matt,” said Sir Harry, “your turn.”
He thrust a sheaf of notes into his pocket laughingly, and Sir Matthew rolled up.
“Now, Mr Barclay,” he said, taking his friend’s seat, while that gentleman began inspecting china and bronzes, “I want only a hundred.”
“Which you can’t have, Sir Matthew,” said Barclay shortly. “You’ve got to the end of your tether, and I shall have to put you in my lawyer’s hands.”
“What, just now, when I have only to go on to be a rich man?”
“My dear Sir Matthew, for two years past I’ve supplied your wants, and you’ve been for ever dangling before my eyes the bait of a rich marriage, when you would pay me back. No more money, sir, from me.”
“Barclay, my dear fellow, don’t be a fool.”