He lay back watching Saul, who poured out a very liberal quantity of whiskey into a tall glass.
“That enough?” he said.
“Well, no—little drop more.”
Saul tilted a half wine-glass more into the tumbler before proceeding to open a bottle of soda-water, and pretending to be too intent to note that the convalescent took a goodly sip of the raw spirit in the glass.
“There,” said Saul, as the cork he set free flew out with a loud and he trickled the effervescent water into the tumbler, “that ought to do you good, old fellow.”
“It will,” said his companion, taking a deep draught with the more enjoyment because it was forbidden.
“And if you like to alter your mind, and invest that money—two thousand—I’ll still see that you have the chance, in spite of your sneers.”
“Ah, just you be bad as I have been, Saul, my lad, and perhaps you’ll be snaggy and sneery. By George! that seems to send life through your veins. What did you say the company was?”
“Company be hanged! Am I the sort of fellow to persuade a man to invest in some visionary company with dividends in futuro? Solid mercantile affair, as you can find out for yourself in the city.”
“Ah, well, we’ll see about it. Pass that decanter.”