“50,000 pounds, and more to come. I never had such luck.”
“I never wanted it,” said Mr Jabez Rowle with a growl. “I don’t know why a man should want to tie himself up to a woman.”
“Not with 50,000 pounds and more to come, eh?” said Mr Grimstone waggishly.
“Might have tempted me twenty years ago,” growled Mr Jabez; “it wouldn’t now.”
“S’pose not. You’re too warm, Rowle—much too warm. I say, though,” he continued, lowering his voice, but quite ignoring me, “is a certain person safe?”
“A certain person?”
“Yes, you know. Suppose, for instance, he quietly asked you to let him have 500 pounds for a few months at seven-and-a-half and a bonus, would you, always considering that he soon touches 50,000 pounds and more to come, would you let him have it?”
Mr Jabez took a pinch of snuff furiously, shut the box with a loud snap, and, evidently completely thrown of his guard, exclaimed:
“Hang him for a fool! Curse me if ever I do so again.”
“What do you mean?” said Mr Grimstone, milling up, “Do you mean to say I’m a fool?”