"You are Jasper Gaunt, I think?" said Barnabas at last.
"At your service, sir, and you, I know, are Mr. Barnabas Beverley."
So they stood, fronting each other, the Youth, unconquered as yet,
and therefore indomitable, and the Man, with glittering eyes old in
their experience of men and the ways of men.
"You wished to see me on a matter of business, Mr. Beverley?"
"Yes."
"Then pray step this way."
"No," said Barnabas, "first I require your signature to this lady's
papers."
Jasper Gaunt smiled, and shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"Such clients as this, sir,--I leave entirely to Mr. Quigly."
"Then, in this instance, sir, you will perhaps favor me by giving
the matter your personal attention!"
Jasper Gaunt hesitated, observed the glowing eye, flushed cheek,
and firm-set lips of the speaker, and being wise in men and their
ways,--bowed.
"To oblige you, Mr. Beverley, with pleasure. Though I understand
from Mr. Quigly that she is unable to meet--"
"Seventy-eight pounds, sir! She can pay it all--every blood-stained,
tear-soaked farthing. She should meet it were it double--treble the
sum!" said Barnabas, opening his purse.
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