"Say four hundred thousand pounds!" answered the collector comfortably.
"A large sum. Think of the thousands whom that amount would make happy!"
Having broken the ice, Sheard found his enforced task not altogether distasteful. It seemed wrong to him, unjust, and in strict disaccordance with the views of the Gleaner, that these thousands should be locked up for one man's pleasure, while starvation levied its toll upon the many. Moreover, he nurtured a temperamental distaste for the whole Semitic race—a Western resentment of that insidious Eastern power.
Crofter looked surprised, and clearly thought his friend's remark in rather bad taste. Sir Leopold faced round abruptly, and a hard look crept into his small bright eyes.
"Mr. Sheard," he said harshly. "I began life as a pauper. What I have, I have worked for."
"You have enjoyed excellent health."
"I admit it."
"Had you, in those days of early poverty, been smitten down with sickness, of what use to you would your admittedly fine commercial capacity have been? You would then, only too gladly, have availed yourself of such an institution as the Sladen Hospital, for instance."
Sir Leopold started.
"What have you to do with the Sladen Hospital?"