He means, thought Jewdwine, that he won't have anything more to do with me.
And Rickman saw that he was understood. He wondered how Jewdwine would take it.
He took it nobly. "Well," he said, "I'm sorry. But if you must go, you must. To tell the truth, my dear fellow, at this rate, you know, I couldn't afford to keep you. I wish I could. You are not the only thing I can't afford." He said it with a certain emotion not very successfully concealed beneath his smile. Rickman was about to go; but he detained him.
"Wait one minute. Do you mind telling me whether you've any regular sources of income besides Metropolis?"
"Well, not at the moment."
"And supposing—none arise?"
"I must risk it."
"You seem to have a positive mania for taking risks." Yes, that was Rickman all over, he found a brilliant joy in the excitement; he was in love with danger.
"Oh well, sometimes, you know, you've got to take them."
Happy Rickman! The things that were so difficult and complicated to Jewdwine were so simple, so incontestable to him. "Some people, Rickman, would say you were a fool." He sighed, and the sigh was a tribute his envy paid to Rickman's foolishness. "I won't offer an opinion; the event will prove."