"It's no use wasting words," said the Sheriff. "Matters have gone too far. The only thing I can do now is----"
"What, sir?"
"If you can pay me the whole of the interest before nine o'clock to-morrow morning I can stop the sale on my own responsibility."
"Eight thousand crowns!" said Magnus, raising his voice to a cry of derision; "you ask me to find you eight thousand crowns before nine o'clock to-morrow morning? You might as well ask me to find you the moon!"
"Then let us say no more on the subject. The Bank has been very patient, very indulgent----"
"The Bank!" cried Magnus, in the wild defiance of his despair. "Has the Bank got a mother? Has the Bank got a child? No! The Bank is a great, grinding monster without bowels of compassion for anybody. God damn the Bank and all its fools and flunkeys!"
"Magnus Stephenson," said the Pastor, raising his little fat hand, "I will ask you to remember that a clergyman is in your company, and if you take God's name in vain----"
"Take God's name in vain! You do that often enough--you do it every Sunday."
"I'll not pretend to misunderstand you, Magnus Stephenson, for I know you are deeply tainted with skepticism, and since you ceased to come to church----"
"Church! You pray to God in your churches, and what does He do for you? What does He do for any one? What has He done for me?"