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Updated: June 26, 2025
Jarvice gracefully paraphrase the single word "expelled" which was written on his slip of paper. "Ah, Mr. Hine," he cried, smiling indulgently at the sullen, bemused weakling who sat before him, stale with his last night's drink. "You and Shelley! Rebels, sir, rebels both! Well, well! After you left school, at the age of sixteen, you pursued your studies in a desultory fashion at home.
The big cigar of which the costliness was proclaimed by the gold band about its middle had long since gone out, and for him the train came quite unexpectedly to a stop at the ticket platform on Battersea Bridge. Mr. Jarvice was a florid person in his looks and in his dress. It was in accordance with his floridness that he always retained the gold band about his cigar while he smoked it.
"She is the daughter of a great friend of mine, Mr. Garratt Skinner. What's the matter?" he cried; and there was reason for his cry. It had been an afternoon of surprises for Mr. Jarvice, but this simple mention of the name of Garratt Skinner was more than a surprise. Mr. Jarvice was positively startled. He leaned back in his chair with his mouth open and his eyes staring at Walter Hine.
Jarvice in the hollow of his hand for all his life. No, that would never do. Garratt Skinner must be a partner so that also he might be an accessory. Accordingly, Jarvice wrote his letter to Garratt Skinner, a few lines urging him to come to London on most important business.
If the words were capable of another and a more sinister meaning than they appeared to convey, Walter Hine did not suspect it. He took them in their obvious sense. "Yes, I shall gain as much culture in Garratt Skinner's house as I should by seeing picture-galleries abroad," he said eagerly, and then Mr. Jarvice smiled. "I think that very likely," he said.
"You have given me your promise," said Sylvia. "There will be no cards, no bets." Walter Hine laughed bitterly. "I shan't break it. I have had my lesson. By Jove, I have." Walter Hine traveled to Waterloo and drove straight to the office of Mr. Jarvice. "I owe some money," he began, bleating the words out the moment he was ushered into the inner office. Mr. Jarvice grinned.
"Yes, yes, we don't want to mix up my name in the affair at all. Sit down, Mr. Hine, and take a cigar. The box is at your elbow. Young men of spirit must have some extra license allowed to them for the sake of the promise of their riper years. I was forgetting that. No, we don't want my name to appear at all, do we?" Publicity had no charms for Mr. Jarvice.
Jarvice took the insurance policy from his safe and shook his head over it sadly. He had seen his way to making in his quiet fashion, and at comparatively little cost, a tidy little sum of one hundred thousand pounds. Now he must take a partner, so that he might not have an enemy.
Hine, and I find that your share must at the very least amount to two hundred thousand pounds." "I know all about that," Hine interrupted. "But as the old brute won't acknowledge me and may live another twenty years, it's not much use to me now." "Well," said Mr. Jarvice, smiling suavely, "my young friend, that is where I come in." Walter Hine looked up in surprise.
Suspicion followed quickly upon the surprise. "Oh, on purely business terms, of course," said Jarvice. He took a seat and resumed gaily. "Now I am by profession what would you guess? I am a money-lender. Luckily for many people I have money, and I lend it I lend it upon very easy terms. I make no secret of my calling, Mr. Hine. On the contrary, I glory in it.
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