"What! you, Mr. Sawley--the stoker's friend--the
enemy of gambling--the father of Selina--condescend to so equivocal a
transaction? You amaze me! But I never was the man to press heavily on a
friend"--here Sawley brightened up. "Your secret is safe with me, and
it shall be your own fault if it reaches the ears of the Session. Pay
me over the difference at the present market price, and I release you of
your obligation."
"Then I'm in the Gazette, that's all," said Sawley, doggedly, "and a
wife and nine beautiful babes upon the parish! I had hoped other things
from you, Mr. Dunshunner--I thought you and Selina--"
"Nonsense, man! Nobody goes into the Gazette just now--it will be time
enough when the general crash comes. Out with your cheque-book, and
write me an order for four and twenty thousand. Confound fractions! In
these days one can afford to be liberal."
"I haven't got it," said Sawley. "You have no idea how bad our trade
has been of late, for nobody seems to think of dying. I have not sold a
gross of coffins this fortnight. But I'll tell you what--I'll give you
five thousand down in cash, and ten thousand in shares; further I can't
go.
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