“Come along down to my office. Been to the mine?”
“Yes, yes. I’ve been down.”
“Ah, you old fox!” cried Geoffrey. “You wouldn’t tell me, but you see we found it out.”
“Yes, yes,” said Prawle, still speaking in a hasty way, contrary to his wont. “I’ll buy some shares.”
“No, you won’t,” said Geoffrey, laughing.
“Why not, eh? You’ll let me?”
“There isn’t a share to be had, old man. No, sir, you are too late. You, knowing what you did, Prawle, should have made friends, and taken your share of the good things.”
The old man looked at him with a curiously sly expression of countenance.
“None to be had?” he said, dubiously.
“Not a share, Father Prawle: for those who hold them know their value now, and will not part.”