“Oh, but—”
“My dear Sir Matthew, if you are dissatisfied, pray give me the notes, and I’ll tear up the bill. You forget the risk. Those are my terms.”
“Oh, but, Barclay.”
“What’s he making you smart, Matt?” cried Sir Harry, joining them. “Just his way.”
“I’ve offered to cancel the bill, if Sir Matthew likes,” said Barclay.
“Have you got any money at all, Matt?”
“Yes, some, but—”
“Hang it! Come along then, man; we’ve no time to lose. Come on and chance it.”
Sir Harry took his friend’s arm, and hurried him out, and Barclay was nodding his head thoughtfully as the door closed, but only for another to open, and Mrs Barclay to enter and sit down, making the entries of his two transactions as a matter of course.
“Old woman,” said Barclay quietly.