“I don’t allow you,” was the sharp reply. “I want three thousand pounds within a week. You understand—within a week.”
“Consols are very low just now, Mr Harrington; would it not be advisable to wait till they go up?”
“No, sir, it would not. You understand; I want that money within a week, and the day I am married, fifteen days from this, I shall require another thousand.”
“Certainly, Mr Harrington,” said the old lawyer. “You have nothing more to say to me to-night?”
“No, sir, nothing. That’s an end to business. Now we can be sociable and friendly. Will you have a little whiskey and a cigar?”
“No, sir, thanks. I had a busy day in town and shall be glad to get to bed. Good-night.”
“Good-night, Mr Hampton, and I suppose you will not be sorry when our relations are always of a business character.”
“For some reasons, no, Mr George Harrington—for some reasons, yes,” said the old lawyer. “Good-night.”
He left the study and began to ascend the stairs, but for some reason went down again and entered the dining-room, and in the dim light given by the turned-down lamp, the portrait of his own client seemed to be gazing down at him searchingly.
With a half shiver he went back, and again began to ascend, to feel the cool night air blowing in upon him from the open staircase window.