“Ninety-two pounds! It cannot be. Why, it is close upon a hundred!” Crayton laughed at my consternation, and Temply stared.
“If you’ll go on playing, you may redeem some of it, Todhetley,” said Crayton. “Come, sit down.”
“I will not touch another card to-night,” said he, doggedly. “I have said it: and I am not one to break my word: as Johnny Ludlow here can testify to. I don’t know that I shall play again after to-night.”
Crayton was offended. Cool though he was, I think he was somewhat the worse for what he had taken—perhaps they all were. “Then you’ll make arrangements for paying your debts,” said he, in scornful tones.
“Yes, I’ll do that,” answered Tod. And he got away. So did I, after a minute or two: Gusty kept me, talking.
In passing upstairs, for we slept on the third floor, Mr. Pell came suddenly out of a room on the left; a candle in one hand and some papers in the other, and a look on his face as of some great trouble.
“What! are you young men not in bed yet?” he exclaimed. “It is late.”
“We are going up now. Is anything the matter, sir?” I could not help asking.
“The matter?” he repeated.
“I thought you looked worried.”