“Caffie!” she cried. “What made you think of going to Caffie?”
“I went partly because you had often spoken of him.”
“But I spoke of him to you as the most wicked of men, capable of anything and everything that is bad.”
“And partly, also, because I knew from one of my patients that he lends to those of whom he can make use.”
“What did he say to you?”
“That it was probable he would not be able to find any one who would lend what I wished, but he would try to find some one, and would give me an answer tomorrow evening. He also promised to protect me from Jardine.”
“You have put yourself in his hands?”
“Well, what do you expect? In my position, I am not at liberty to go to whom I wish and to those who inspire me with confidence in their honor. If I should go to a notary or a banker they would not listen to me, for I should be obliged to tell them, the first thing, that I have no security to offer. That is how the unfortunate fall into the hands of rascals; at least, these listen to them, and lend them something, small though it may be.”
“What did he give you?”
“Advice.”