“With me?” I demanded, not a little startled by this candid revelation. “Going wrong?”
“I had an idea that you were losing money, or that something serious troubled you.”
“What makes you think so?” I asked.
“I hardly know; but you seem to act strangely; to be excited or absent-minded. Perhaps you have lost more on coppers than you care to acknowledge?”
“Well, I have lost more than I ought to lose.”
“And—excuse me, Paley—but you have been drinking.”
“Only a nipper or two for a pain which often vexes me.”
“It’s a dangerous practice—don’t do it, Paley. Better suffer the pain than fall into a bad habit. I’m impudent, I know, but I can’t help it. I wouldn’t have things go wrong with you for all the world. Are you in debt?”
“Somewhat.”
“Let me help you out. With what I have saved myself, and with what came to me from my father’s estate, I have about eight thousand dollars. Promise me that you won’t drink any more, and I will let you have money enough to help you out of debt.”