“Come in,” he said, in a voice so changed that Terrard was shocked. “Come in! It’s good of you to have come so quickly! I needed you! You’re a good friend,” and he pressed the young man’s hand. “Sit down ... Terrard.... I—I’ve been sleeping badly. I hardly slept all the night before last. Last night I couldn’t sleep at all. I’m done!” He looked it.
Terrard began to murmur something. Mr. Petre put up his hand. “No, Terrard. Hear me a little. It won’t take long. But I can’t wait. I couldn’t trust any one else, but you ... I ... I ... didn’t really know any one else ... and all this filthy chopping and watching and overreaching ... oh!”
Terrard, used as he was to marvels from that mouth, felt, even after all these months of incalculability, an appreciable astonishment.
“Hear me!” Mr. Petre went on. “You can help me.... No one else can.” Then he halted.
“What is it, Mr. Petre?” said Terrard in his best bedside manner.
“It’s the shares!” said Mr. Petre hoarsely. “I can’t bear them ... and Trefusis ... and all that.... It’s intolerable!” and he sank back.
“You’re ill!” said the other, still more sympathetically. “Give yourself time, Mr. Petre.”
Mr. Petre shook his head with some remaining energy.
“No,” he answered. “No! I shall be right when I am rid of this burden.... You can do it.... But do it at once!”
“Do what?” said Terrard.