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Updated: June 10, 2025
"I shall not be hard on him," said Warde, "because" for a moment his eyes flashed "because he came to me and confessed his fault; but I won't deny that I gave him a very uncomfortable quarter of an hour. He sat in your chair." Beaumont-Greene shuffled uneasily. "Have you this thirty pounds in your pocket?" asked Warde, casually. Beaumont-Greene began to regret his haste in settling. "No, sir."
The tailor observed a slight flush and a sudden intake of breath signs which stirred suspicion. "Will you take it in notes, sir?" Here Beaumont-Greene made his first blunder. He had an ill-defined idea that paper was dangerous stuff. "In gold, please." He forgot that gold is not easily sent in a letter. The tailor hesitated, but he had gone too far to back out. "Very well, sir.
"And can you offer me any explanation why Beaumont-Greene, whose father, to my knowledge, has always given him a very large allowance, should borrow thirty pounds of you two?" "I haven't the smallest idea, have you, Lovell?" "No," said Lovell. "Unless his younger brother, who is at Eton, has got into trouble. He's very fond of his brothers." "Um! You speak up for your friend." Lovell frowned.
There would be time then to reconsider the propriety of giving young Desmond a suitable gift. . . . Common sense told Beaumont-Greene to show this letter to Scaife and Lovell. But he saw the Demon's derisive grin, and recoiled from it. At this moment temptation seized him relentlessly. Beaumont-Greene never resisted temptation.
The pair followed him into the private side, upstairs, and into the sick-room. There were three beds in it; upon one sat Beaumont-Greene. His complexion turned a sickly drab when he saw Lovell and Scaife. He even glanced at the window with a hunted expression. The window was three stories from the ground, and heavily barred ever since a boy in delirium had tried to jump from it.
"It's horribly fuggy in here, and I've Jambi to do; but I'm not going till you give me your word that you'll leave young Kinloch alone." "If you don't walk out I'll chuck you out." "You must catch me first," said John. And then a very pretty chase took place. Beaumont-Greene, fat, scant of breath, full of macaroons, began to pursue John round and round the table.
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