“Yes, as aforesaid.”
“Well, sir. What is it you want with me?” said the manager coldly.
“What do I want with you, eh? Oh, come, that’s rich! You’re a lucky one, you are. I go to prison, and you get made manager down here. Ah! you see I know all about it.”
“I do not understand you, sir.”
“Then I’ll tell you, my fine fellow. Some men never get found out, some do; that’s the difference between us two. I’ve gone to the wall—inside it,” he added, with a sickly grin. “You’ve got to be quite the gentleman. But they’ll find you out some day.”
“Well, sir, what is this to lead up to?” said Hallam.
“Oh, I say though, Rob Hallam, this is too rich. Manager here, and going, they say, to marry the prettiest girl in the place.” Hallam started in spite of his self-command. “And I suppose I shall be asked to the wedding, shan’t I?”
“Will you be so good as to explain what is the object of this visit?” said Hallam coldly.
“Why, can’t you see? I’ve come to the bank because I want some money. There, you need not look like that, my lad. It’s my turn now, and you’ve got to put things a bit straight for me after what I suffered sooner than speak.”
“Do you mean you have come here to insult me and make me send for a constable?” cried Hallam.