He leaned back in his chair. “All right,” he said, hopelessly; “think, if you want to. Though why you should want to think about a thing like me I don't see. And I used to despise a crook as much as any one! and a coward still more! And now I'm both a crook and a coward.”
I knew his cowardice was merely on Nellie's account. George Taylor was no coward in the ordinary sense of the word, nor was he a crook. I rose and paced up and down the room. He watched me listlessly; it was plain that he felt no confidence whatever in my being able to help him. After a time he spoke.
“It's no use, Ros,” he said. “Don't worry your head about me; I ain't worth it. If there was any way out, any way at all, I'd have sighted it long ago. There ain't. Take my advice and leave me. You don't want to be mixed up with an embezzler.”
I turned on him, impatiently. “I have been mixed up, as you call it, with one before,” I said, sharply. “Is my own family record so clean that I need to pretend—there, George! don't be an idiot. Let me think.”
The clock chimed ten. I stopped in my walk and turned to him.
“George,” I said, “tell me this: If you had the money to buy back these bonds belonging to the bank you would be all right, wouldn't you? If you had it in your hands by to-morrow morning, I mean.”
“Yes; IF I had it—but I haven't.”
“You could send the money to the brokers and—”
“Send! I wouldn't send; I'd go myself and fetch the bonds back with me. Once I had them in that safe again I—”
“And you would not take any more risks, even if the market dropped and they had to sell out your account? Even if you lost every cent of your investment?”