“That's my own affair, I fancy,” replied Sir Richard, as haughtily as prudence would permit. “You are simply an agent.”
“Wish shome muff would take it off my hands; 'shan agenshy tha'll bring whoever takesh it more tr-tr-ouble than tin. By my shoul I'll not keepsh long! I'm blowsh if I'll be fool any longer!”
“I'm to suppose, then, that you have made up your mind to act no longer for my friend, whoever that friend may be?” said Sir Richard, who boded no good to himself from that step.
Mr. Levi nodded surlily.
“Have you drawn those bills?”
Mr. Levi gave the table a spin, unlocked a drawer, and threw two bills across to Sir Richard, who glancing at them said,—
“The date is ridiculously short!”
“How can I 'elp 't? and the interesht shlesh than nothin': sh-shunder the bank termsh f-or the besht paper going—I'm blesht if it ain't—it ain't f-fair interesh—the timesh short becaushe the partiesh, theysh—they shay they're 'ard hup, Shir, 'eavy sharge to pay hoff, and a big purchashe in Austriansh!”
“My uncle, David Arden, I happen to know, is buying Austrian stock this week; and Lady May Penrose is to pay off a charge on her property next month.”
The Jew smiled mysteriously.