"I know. He has lost—frightfully—and Mr. Etherage must pay up ever so much in calls beside; and unless he can get it on a mortgage of the Windermore estate, he can't possibly pay them—and I've been trying, and the result is just this—they won't lend it anywhere till the litigation is settled."
"Well, what can I do?" said Cleve, yawning stealthily into his hand, and looking very tired. I am afraid these tragic confidences of Tom Sedley's did not interest Cleve very much; rather bored him, on the contrary.
"They won't lend, I say, while this litigation is pending."
"Depend upon it they won't," acquiesced Cleve.
"And in the meantime, you know, Mr. Etherage would be ruined."
"Well, I see; but, I say again, what can I do?"
"I want you to try if anything can be done with Lord Verney," said Tom, beseechingly.
"Talk to my uncle? I wish, dear Tom, you could teach me how to do that."
"It can't do any harm, Cleve—it can't," urged Tom Sedley, piteously.
"Nor one particle of good. You might as well talk to that picture—I do assure you, you might."