“Yes, in a sort of way.”
“You are a queer chap. I can’t help saying that I am obliged to you. But it won’t do any good. I am absolutely dead broke.”
“Now listen to me. I will pay your fare back to London and give you something to live on until I return a week hence. Then you must come to see me, and I will help you into some sort of situation. But you must once and for all abandon this notion of suicide.”
“What about my debts?”
“Confound your debts. Tell people to wait until you are able to pay them.”
“And—and the girl?”
“If she is worth having she will give you a chance of making a living sufficient to enable you to marry her. She is of age, I suppose, and can marry any one she likes.”
Mensmore puffed his cigarette in silence for fully a minute. Then he said:
“You are a very decent sort, Mr.—”