'But—but he's not a cheap scoundrel!'
Uncle Arthur raised his eyebrows. His eyes, Henry felt, would burn holes in him if he stayed here much longer.
'You're hard on me, Uncle Arthur. You're not fair I'm not going to lose——'
The older man abruptly got up.
'If you care for any advice at all from me, I suggest that you insist on a note from this man—a demand note, or, at the very outside, a three-months' one. Don't put money unsecured into a weak business. Make it a personal obligation on the part of the proprietor. And now, Henry, that is all. I really don't care to talk to you further.
Henry stood still.
His uncle turned brusquely away.
'But—but—' Henry said unsteadily, 'Uncle Arthur—really! Money isn't everything!'
His uncle turned on him as if about to speak; but on second thought merely raised his eyebrows again.
And then came the final humiliation, the little climax that was always to stand out with particular vividness in Henry's memory of the scene. He turned to go. He had reached the door when he heard his uncle's voice, saying, with a rasp:—