"Say what have you to say, and be done with it," he muttered.
"In the first place, then, I beg leave to ask you a question. Do you not remember me?" and the clerk looked searchingly with his cold gray eyes in the face of Paul Morton.
"I may possibly have met you before," he replied with an effort, "but I meet a great many people, and there is no particular reason, that I am aware of, why I should remember you in particular."
"I also meet a considerable number of persons," said James Cromwell, "but circumstances have led me to remember you very well."
"Well, grant that you remember me," said the merchant, with nervous impatience, "what then?"
"It may be necessary for me to remind you that I am employed in a druggist's shop on the Bowery."
"I hope you like your situation," said Paul Morton, with a sneer.
"No, I don't like it, and that is the reason why I have come to you, hoping that you will help me to something better."
This was said with quiet self-possession, and Paul Morton began to realize with uneasiness that this young man, whom he had looked upon with contempt, was not so easily to be overawed or managed as he had expected.
"This is a cool request, considering that you are a comparative stranger to me."