Piers held up his two empty hands.
“I have a great deal of money,” he said. “I am a very rich boy.” He paused.
“Well?”
“I can’t tell you any more; but will you trust me with a third-class fare to Haversham?”
“The nearest railway station is half a mile away, just behind those trees,” said Squire Furzby.
“Please will you take me there? I will promise so faithfully to return the money if you’ll lend it to me; on my honor, you know—and as you are a gentleman, and I’m another. Do you think you could trust me?”
“Your ticket at half-price third-class costs one and elevenpence,” said the gentleman. “I happen to know that line well.”
“Would you lend it me? It will be such an immense help.”
“If you confide in me.”
“That’s just what I can’t do. I am an unfortunate boy burdened with a secret. Will you trust me because you are a gentleman and because I am one?”