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Updated: June 9, 2025
"It seemed to me pertinent; and, besides, when you ask me for money upon no security, you treat me with the liberty of a friend, and it's to be presumed that I can do the like. But the point is, do you accept?" "No, thank you," said I; "I have another string to my bow." "All right," says Myner. "Be sure it's honest." "Honest? honest?" I cried. "What do you mean by calling my honesty in question?"
Think of the master, and that cold-blooded Myner too! Yes, just let the Depew City boom get on its legs, and you shall go; and two years later, day for day, I'll shake hands with you in Paris, with Mamie on my arm, God bless her!" We talked in this vein far into the night.
My errand would have been difficult enough under the best of circumstances: placed between Myner, immersed in his art, and the white, fat, naked female in a ridiculous attitude, I found it quite impossible. "You didn't come here to talk this rot," said he. "No," I replied sullenly; "I came to borrow money." He painted a while in silence. "I don't think we were ever very intimate?" he asked.
The porter would expect his money; I could not pay him; here was scandal in the house; and I knew right well the cause of scandal would have to pack. "What do you mean by calling my honesty in question?" I had cried the day before, turning upon Myner.
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