"Well, I'm blessed!" I said. "For a lover I think you're about the most cold-blooded cynic I ever struck. What are you going to wish next?"
"I must have some money," Bruce said thoughtfully.
"You must," I agreed, "plenty! Eight hundred a year won't go far with Cynthia, to say nothing of the others."
"What about a billion in Consols?" suggested Bruce.
I shook my head.
"Too much," I said. "Think what The Clarion and Reynolds's would say about it! You'd have no peace."
"I know," exclaimed Bruce suddenly. "I'll wish that I had as much money as John P. Fox, the American Rubber King."
"That ought to see you through all right," I remarked approvingly. "The papers say he is worth six millions."
Bruce again held up the Nadir Bandar.
"I wish," said he, "that I had as much money as John P. Fox, the American Rubber King."