"Wouldn't it keep, Marsh?" asked Gilmore.
"No, sir, it wouldn't keep; I want to tell you just what I think of you, you damn—"
"Oh, that will keep, Marsh, any time will do for that; anyway, you have told me something like that already! When you sober up—"
"Do you think I'm drunk?"
"I don't think anything about it."
"Well, maybe I am, I have been under a strain. But I'm not too drunk to attend to business; I am never too drunk for that. I wish to say I have the money—"
His lips twitched, and Gilmore, watching him furtively, saw that he was again shivering.
"You got what, Marsh?" demanded Gilmore in a whisper.
"The money, the money I owe you!"
"Oh, I see!" He fell back a step and stared at Langham; there was apprehension dawning in his eyes. "Where did you get it?" he asked.