"You do not understand," said he. "I am not a swindler, and I
guard myself; that is all. It may weary you or not, Mr. Cassilis,
I do not care a rush; I speak for my own satisfaction, and not for
your amusement. You had better go upstairs and court the girl; for
my part, I stay here."
"And I stay with you," I returned. "Do you think I would steal a
march, even with your permission?"
"Frank," he said, smiling, "it's a pity you are an ass, for you
have the makings of a man. I think I must be FEY to-day; you
cannot irritate me even when you try. Do you know," he continued
softly, "I think we are the two most miserable men in England, you
and I? we have got on to thirty without wife or child, or so much
as a shop to look after - poor, pitiful, lost devils, both! And
now we clash about a girl! As if there were not several millions
in the United Kingdom! Ah, Frank, Frank, the one who loses this
throw, be it you or me, he has my pity! It were better for him -
how does the Bible say? - that a millstone were hanged about his
neck and he were cast into the depth of the sea. Let us take a
drink," he concluded suddenly, but without any levity of tone.
I was touched by his words, and consented. He sat down on the
table in the dining-room, and held up the glass of sherry to his
eye.
"If you beat me, Frank," he said, "I shall take to drink. What
will you do, if it goes the other way?"
"God knows," I returned.
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