"I mean exactly what I say. I know (if you don't) that that two hundred ought to be three thousand, and if it isn't paid I shall have to shunt the business. I never meant to stay in it for ever, but in this case I shall simply clear out at once, that's all. See?"
"No. I don't see. I don't see myself paying three thousand to a man who's willing to take two hundred."
"See my point, I mean. If the three thousand isn't paid, I go. On the other hand, if it is paid, I stay."
This was one of those inspirations on which he had counted, and it presented itself to him as a "clincher." At the same instant he realized that he was selling himself into slavery for three thousand pounds. No, not for three thousand pounds, for his honour's sake and Lucia Harden's.
Isaac looked graver, alarmed even; it struck him that Keith's peculiar vein of extravagance was becoming dangerous.
"You can calculate the interest at four per cent., and knock a hundred and twenty off my salary, if you like; but I'll stay. It's pretty clear, isn't it? I think, on the whole, it might be as well for you to close with the offer. It seems to me that if I'm worth anything at all, I'm worth three thousand."
"I haven't priced your services yet." Isaac's gaze shifted. He was beginning to feel something of that profound discomfort he had experienced before in the presence of his son. "Now, when you spoke to Miss 'Arden, had she any notion of the value of the library?"
"None whatever, till I told her."
"Do you mean to stand there and say that you were fool enough to tell her?"
"Certainly; I thought it only fair to her."