Winthrop knew it, and had never liked it. He did not tell Rufus so now; he gave him nothing but the attention of his calm face; into which Rufus looked while he talked, as if it were the safe, due, and appointed treasury in which to bestow all his grievances and passionate sense of them.
"Well! — you know he offered, a year ago or more, that by way of making a beginning, I should take off his hands some cotton which he had lying in storage, and ship it to Liverpool on my own account; and as I had no money, I was to pay him by drawing bills in his favour upon the consignees."
"I remember very well," said Winthrop.
"Well sir! — the cotton reached Liverpool and was found good for nothing!"
"Literally?"
"Literally, sir! — wasn't worth near the amount of my bills, which of course were returned — and Haye has sued me for the rest!"
Rufus's face looked as if a spark from it might easily have burnt up the whole consignment of cotton, if it had happened to be in the neighbourhood.
"How was the cotton? — damaged?"
"Damaged? — of course! — kept in vaults here till it was spoiled; and he knew it!"
"For what amount has he sued you?" said Winthrop when Rufus had fed his fire silently for a couple of minutes.