“Well, yes,” said Loring quietly. “The fact is, there’s a certain shooting in Scotland which I have coveted for years. It’s for sale now, and on uncommonly reasonable terms. Of course, it’s appalling extravagance on my part, for the shares are going up every day. But I am going to sell a thousand pounds’ worth of Welcomes to-day and buy that moor.”
“It is extravagance!” said Julian, and there was an eager light in his blue eyes.
“Like to have the shares?” said Loring imperturbably.
Julian hesitated.
“I should like them, of course,” he said, rather breathlessly. “So would lots of other fellows. But, you see, my thousands, what there were of them, are all locked up in the Welcome already.”
“You wouldn’t think it worth while to borrow, I suppose?” enquired Loring carelessly.
“There’s a little difficulty known as security.”
“For some fellows, of course,” was the answer. “But not for you. You’ve got money coming to you.”
Julian coloured a dull red, and looked down at the carpet, moving his foot to and fro uneasily.
The idea of raising money on a reversion for such a purpose was for the moment inexpressibly repugnant to him.