"I don't want his money," the younger man insisted, brokenly; "he let her die."
"I think that it would please her to have you take it."
"I don't want to be under obligations to those people," Algernon said, doggedly.
"If Mr. Gordon has your note, it's business."
Algy hesitated. "I suppose he thinks I'd never pay it back?"
"If he takes your note, it looks as if he expected to be repaid."
"It's treating me white, I'll say that," Algernon said. And again his face reddened slowly to his forehead and he would not meet Dr. Lavendar's eye. "But I don't want their favors," he cried, threateningly.
"It's business, if you give your note," Dr. Lavendar repeated. "Come, Algernon, let her father do something for her sake. And as for you—it's a chance to play the man; don't you see that?"
Algy caught his breath. "Damn!—if I borrowed his money I'd pay it—I'd pay it, if it took the blood out of me."
"I will make your feeling clear to him," Dr. Lavendar said. "Let's make out the note now, Algy."