“I will see him.”
A few moments later a gentleman, who was evidently ill at ease, came in and approached Gaunt with a deprecating air.
“They told me in the City that I should find you here,” he remarked apologetically.
“Then they failed in their duty. What do you want?” Gaunt asked curtly.
“You’ve been a good friend to me, and I’m afraid that I’ve worried you; but it is not my fault, old chap. I’m desperately hard up—and——”
“Cut it short. I suppose that you want to borrow again?”
“I thought that you would——”
“In this instance you thought correctly. I owe you a debt, for you did me a service many years ago. On several occasions since I have endeavored to repay it. Now, I will give you a check for a hundred pounds.”
Braithwaite began effusively to express his thanks but was cut short abruptly.
“This is the last time—and I am a man of my word. It seems to me that you must be a shiftless kind of person not to get on, with all the chances you have had. But I won’t preach. I want you to understand that I won’t give you another penny piece—not if you are starving,” Gaunt said with quiet emphasis.