"That would strike you. It doesn't me. But I will be frank with you. Why should I not be frank--although you are not frank with me. Though perhaps I can afford to be frank better than you can."
He threw his ancient overcoat, faced with ancient mock astrachan, wide open. He tilted his ancient silk hat on to the back of his head. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his ancient trousers.
"The plain fact is, Mr. Tennant, that I am a victim of the present commercial depression."
He looked it, every inch of him. Though, at the moment, I scarcely cared to tell him so.
"The depreciation in landed property, and in various securities, has hit me hard."
"To what securities do you allude?"
I fancy he made an effort at recollection, and that the effort failed.
"To South American securities, and others. But I need not particularise." He repeated the former lordly gesture with his hand. "The truth is that my income is not only seriously crippled, but that I am, at this present moment, actually in want of ready cash." I believed him, without his protestations. I judged from his looks. "Now, if I do something for you, will you do something for me?"
"What will you do for me?"
"Keep silence. I am not compelled to blurt out all I know. If I show mercy to you, what return will you make me for my kindness?"