Haldiman stood back and looked critically at the picture, then said with a drawl:
“Well, I’m in hopes of looting four guineas out of the pirate who edits the magazine this is for. It’s a full page, you know.”
“Great heavens! Imagine a man doing a picture for such a sum as that! I wouldn’t draw a line under a hundred pounds.”
“I’ve often thought of putting my price up to that entrancing figure,” replied Haldiman, reflectively, “but refrained for fear of bankrupting the magazines. One must have some consideration for the sixpenny press.” Barney thrust his hand deep into his trousers pocket, drew out a fist-full of coins, selected four sovereigns and four shillings, and placed them on the table, saying: “There, Haldiman, there’s your guineas. I buy that picture. Now sit down and talk to me. I want your whole attention.”
Haldiman stood for a moment looking alternately at the money and at the man. At last he spoke, slowly and quietly:
“Some day, Barney, you’ll do a thing like that, and get smashed in consequence. I’m unfortunately unable to throw you out of the window myself; but there is a cabman loitering about in front, and I will call him in to assist me if you don’t at once put that money in your pocket. Don’t make me violate the sacred rules of hospitality.”
“You have violated them, Hal, already, by getting angry. I see you’re angry, so don’t deny it. Besides, the cabman wouldn’t come; I own him, and if he did I could put you both out.”
“You can’t hire me, like a cabman, you know, Barney.”
“Of course not, of course not. I’m not trying to, dear boy. Do sit down and be sensible. I’ve come to you as one friend to another, for I’m at a crisis in my career. I need help, so be good to me. I take a serious view of life now, and——”
“Since when?”