“I don’t know about that,” said the other, good-humouredly; “I’ve been spending a good deal of money in music things lately.”
“Bosh! you can get me out of the hole, if you like.”
“How much do you owe him?”
Mark threw the end of his cigarette with all his force into the fireplace, and ground his teeth for a few moments before muttering between them—
“Eighty-four pounds, or so!”
“What?”
“Eighty-four pounds,” snarled Mark. “Do you want me to shout it for everyone to know?”
“But how could you get into his debt to that extent?”
“Didn’t I tell you, stupid? Half of it was lent, and I gave him an I.O.U., and he has been piling it up somehow. I don’t know what he has done. He was civil and smooth as butter till he had me tight, and now he’s showing his teeth.”
“But he would not have written to Draycott unless you had been disagreeable to him.”