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Updated: May 19, 2025
"I do not make bargains," Denzil replied, his calm come back by this time. "I came here to tender you a suggestion. It struck me that you might offer me a fiver for my trouble. Should you do so, I shall not refuse it." "You shall not refuse it if you deserve it." "Good. I will come to the point at once. My suggestion concerns Tom Mortlake." Denzil threw out the name as if it were a torpedo.
"There's a friend o' mine," continued Melky, "wholesale jeweller, down Shoreditch way, wants to get out a catalogue. He ain't no lit'ry powers, d'you see? Now, he'd run to a fiver cash down if some writing feller 'ud touch things up a bit for him, like. Lor' bless you! it wouldn't take you more'n a day's work! What d'ye say to it?"
Instead of eagerly scanning the sheets and picking out the watchwords of the new liberty, or glowing with enthusiastic admiration at the phrases or sentiments, most of the crowd "bought a couple as a souvenir" some with the cute business instinct "that they'd be worth a fiver each some day, when the beggars were hanged." I give another pathetic story told to me, though I cannot vouch for it.
There's nothing to be afraid of in a stone wall really, but it's the idea of the thing of not being free to move about, especially to a chap that has always lived in the open as I have, and has had men under him. It was no wonder I was in a funk for a minute. I'll bet a fiver the others were, too, if they'll only own up to it. I don't mean for long, but just when the idea first laid hold of them.
I will challenge my man, whoever he as that needs a lesson, to touch buttons on a waistcoat with the button on the foil, or drill fiver and eights in cards at twenty paces: but I will not fight him though he offend me, for I am stronger than my temper, and as I do not want to take his nip of life, and judge it to be of less value than mine, the imperilling of either is an absurdity.
"I outlucked you, you yap," he answered harshly. "That dealer he wasn't worth hell room!" "Gimme a fiver to eat on!" demanded Rimrock as Bray banked the money, but he flipped him fifty cents. It was the customary stake, the sop thrown by the gambler to the man who has lost his last cent, and Bray sloughed it without losing his count.
"I don't know how to thank you for that fiver. And this; listen "'I remember the black wharves and the ships And the sea-tides tossing free, And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips, And the beauty and mystery of the ships, And the magic of the sea. "I haven't braved any dangers, but I feel as if I knew all about it." "You certainly seem to have a grip of the sea. Have you ever seen it?"
He turned upon his heel and walked out of the store. As he passed the counter where Wilbur was standing, the young man said: "I am awfully sorry, Philip. It's a shame! If I wasn't broke I'd offer to lend you a fiver." "Thank you all the same for your kind offer, Wilbur," said Phil. "Come round and see me." "So I will soon." He left the store and wandered aimlessly about the streets.
"I didn't send her and the kid a whole Christmas box like you wanted me to, did I? I didn't stick a brand-new fiver in the black-silk-dress pattern, knowing all the while she'd have it drunk up before she opened the creases out. I didn't, did I?" They were approaching the intersection of a wide and white-lighted cross-town street. The snowfall had lightened.
'I don't see where the joke comes in for you, said Mr. Wontner. 'I thought it was my little jokelet to-night. 'No, Clausewitz, gasped Bobby. 'Some is, but not all. I'll be good now. I'll give you my parole till we get to Mess. I wouldn't be out of this for a fiver. 'Nor me, said Eames, and he gave his parole to attempt no escape or evasion. 'Now, I suppose, said Mr.
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