"If you will give me a written contract, I dare say I can borrow them from a bank agent or mortgage broker on the strength of it."
"Oh, yes," said Devine, drily. "It's quite likely you can, but he would charge you a percentage that's going to make a big hole in the profit."
"I'm afraid I haven't any other means of getting the money."
"Well," said Devine, "I rather think you have. In fact, I'll lend it you as the work goes on."
Brooke felt distinctly uncomfortable and sat silent a moment, for this was the last thing he had desired or expected.
"I have really no claim on you, sir," he said at length. "In this province payment is very seldom made until the work is done, and quite often not until a long while afterwards."
Devine smiled drily. "I guess that is my business. Now is there any special reason you shouldn't borrow those dollars from me?"
Brooke felt that there was a very good one, but it was one he could not well make plain to Devine. He was troubled by an unpleasant sense of meanness already, and felt that it would be almost insufferable to have a kindness thrust upon him by his companion. He was, though he would not look at her, also sensible that Barbara Heathcote was watching him covertly, and decided that what he and Devine had said had been perfectly audible in the silent room.
"I would, at least, prefer to grapple with the financial difficulty in my own way, sir," he said.
Devine made a little gesture of indifference. "Then, if you should want a few dollars at any time you know where to come for them. Now, I guess we're through with the business and you can talk to Mrs. Devine—who has been there—about the Old Country."