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Updated: June 2, 2025
That's his window with the light in it. Bommaney moved to the window, and followed with his glance the direction of Hornett's outstretched finger. There was a window a few feet higher than the one at which he stood, and half-hidden from observation by a stone parapet. A shadow obscured the light, and moved about the ceiling, visible from below.
Barter was perfectly aware that he was being tempted, and felt that, in its way, the temptation wets a kind of godsend. He even said as much in a low murmur to himself. His perplexities related to other things than the fear of any fall from honour. Bommaney had evidently been very queer.
Bommaney; if you please, sir. He started at the sound of a voice which had been familiar to him for years. 'I should like a word with you, sir; if you please. James Hornett was less changed than his old employer, but it was evident that he too had fallen upon evil times.
It was about a year later than the disgrace of the house of Bommaney that old Brown, to his daughter's perplexity and grief, began to show signs of trouble almost as marked as those he had displayed after his old friend's defection. The old boy's newspaper no longer interested him of a morning.
Barter had found the notes he wouldn't care to face you again, and he mightn't have answered your knock at the door, though he might have heard it. 'Any fool could tell me that, said Bommaney roughly. 'What do you mean? 'I've noticed, sir, said Hornett, with marked humility, as if he apologised for having said anything, 'that young Mr.
Suppose I made you believe me, am I such a fool as to, think your pity could set me on my legs again? He turned away, moved by his own wrath and anguish, and Hornett, rising, made himself as small as he could in the corner beside the grate. Bommaney, in his pitiful broken boots, went shuffling up and down the room. 'What became of the money, sir? the clerk asked with a shaky voice.
'It's very humble, but you could put up for the night there. Bommaney made no answer, but the two set out again together through the rain, and, pausing once only for the purchase of a flat pint bottle of whisky, made straight for Fleeter's Rents.
You look here, Bommaney' the merchant's heart seemed to stand still, and then to beat so wild an alarum that he wondered the other did not hear it The intuition multiplied in strength. He heard beforehand the spoken words, the very tones which marked them. 'You're a safe man, you're a smart man. I suppose there isn't anybody in London who can lay out money to more advantage than you can.
The visitor was laughing and rubbing his hands again in perfect happiness and self-contentment, and had no eye for Bommaney's abstraction. 'Yes, he said, 'it's Patty's doing. I've sold up every stick and stone, and I've taken a house in Gower Street. Do you know, Bommaney, he added, with an air and voice suddenly serious and confidential, 'the country's going to the devil.
'Never, sir, I'm sure, Hornett responded, not doubting in his own mind that Bommaney was guilty. 'But 'But what? cried Bommaney. 'My own son, my own flesh and blood, would hardly shake hands with me. My clerk I took him out of the gutter, you know that, Hornett! I took you out of the gutter and made a man of you, and lavished kindness on you.
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