Beverley only
wants to help you--er--that is, in a friendly way, of course, and I
'm sure--"
"Damn his help! I'd rather die in the g-gutter than ask help or
charity of any one."
"Yes, yes--of course, my dear fellow! But you're so touchy, Barry,
so infernally proud, my dear boy. Mr. Beverley merely wishes to--"
"Be honored with your friendship," said Barnabas with his ingenuous
smile.
"Why then, Dig," says his youthful Mightiness, beginning to relent,
"pray beg Mr. Bev'ley's pardon for me again, and 'sure him the honor
is mine."
"And I would have you trust me also," Barnabas pursued.
"Trust you?" repeated Barrymaine with a sudden laugh. "Gad, yes,
willingly! Only it happens I've n-noth-ing left to trust you with,
--no, not enough to pay the Spanswick."
"And yet, if you will, you may be free," said Barnabas the persistent.
"Free! He's at it again, Dig."
"Believe me it is my earnest desire to help you,--to--"
"Help me, sir! a stranger! by heaven,--no! A stranger, damme!"
"Let us say your friend."
"I tell you, sir," said Barrymaine, starting up unsteadily,
"I seek no man's aid--s-scorn it! I'm not one to weep out my
misfortunes to strangers.
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