"
The door had hardly closed upon the discomfited coffin-maker, and I was
still in the preliminary steps of an extempore _pas seul_, intended as
the outward demonstration of exceeding inward joy, when Bob M'Corkindale
entered. I told him the result of the morning's conference.
"You have let him off too easily," said the political economist. "Had
I been his creditor, I certainly should have sacked the shares into the
bargain. There is nothing like rigid dealing between man and man."
"I am contented with moderate profits," said I; "besides, the image of
Selina overcame me. How goes it with Jobson and Grabbie?"
"Jobson had paid, and Grabbie compounded. Heckles--may he die an evil
death!--has repudiated, become a lame duck, and waddled; but no doubt
his estate will pay a dividend."
"So then, we are clear of the whole Glenmutchkin business, and at a
handsome profit."
"A fair interest for the outlay of capital--nothing more. But I'm not
quite done with the concern yet."
"How so? not another bearing operation?"
"No; that cock would hardly fight. But you forget that I am secretary to
the company, and have a small account against them for services already
rendered.
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