“And is Jem Smith with you still?”
“With me? No; but he’s in a house close by, the great stupid lout! He’s got whiskers now, and grown more thick-headed than ever. Grimstone had a sharp illness, though, over that affair.”
“What affair?” I asked.
“Why, when the partnership was broken up—you know?”
“No,” I said, wonderingly.
“Why, you must have heard. When John Lister was bankrupt. He was dead in with the money-lenders, and he had to give up, you know.”
“What! was he ruined?”
“Ruined? yes, a gambling fool; and if Mr Ruddle hadn’t been pretty firm, the rascal would have ruined him too—pulled the house down.”
“This is news,” I said.
“Yes, and bad news, too,” said the old fellow. “Five hundred pounds of my savings went—lent money—for him to make ducks and drakes!”