“No, Kesselmeyer. I adjure you to hear me quietly. I’ll be perfectly frank. I confess that my situation is serious. You and the Credit Bank are not the only ones--there are notes of hand--everything seems to have gone to pieces at once!” “Of course--naturally. It is certainly a clean-up--a liquidation.” “No, Kesselmeyer; hear me out. Do take another cigar.” “This one is not half finished. Leave me alone with your cigars. Pay up.” “Kesselmeyer, don’t let me smash!--You are a friend of mine--you have eaten at my table.” “And maybe you haven’t eaten at mine?” “Yes, yes--but don’t refuse me credit now, Kesselmeyer!” “Credit? It’s credit, now, is it? Are you in your senses? A new loan?” “Yes, Kesselmeyer, I swear to you-- A little--a trifle. I only need to make a few payments and advances here and there to get on my feet again and restore confidence. Help me and you will be doing a big business. As I said, I have a number of affairs on hand. They may still all come out right. You know how shrewd and resourceful I am.” “I know what a numbskull you are! A dolt, a nincompoop, my dear friend! Will you have the goodness to tell me what your resourcefulness can accomplish at this stage? Perhaps there is a bank somewhere in the wide world that will lend you a shilling? Or another father-in-law? Ah, no; you have already played your best card. You can’t play it twice.--With all due respect, my dear fellow, and my highest regards.” “Speak lower, devil take you!” “You are a fool. Shrewd and resourceful, are you? Yes, to the other chap’s advantage. You’re not scrupulous, I’ll say that for you, but much good it’s done you! You have played tricks, and wormed capital out of people by hook or crook, just to pay me my twelve or sixteen per cent. You threw your honour overboard without getting any return. You have a conscience like a butcher’s dog, and yet you are nothing but a ninny, a scapegoat. There are always such people--they are too funny for words. Why is it you are so afraid to apply to the person we mean with the whole story? Isn’t it because there was crooked work four years ago? Perhaps it wasn’t all quite straight--what? Are you afraid that certain things--?” “Very well, Kesselmeyer; I will write. But suppose he refuses? Suppose he lets me down?” “Oh--ah, ha! Then we will just have a bankruptcy, a highly amusing little bankruptcy. That doesn’t bother me at all. So far as I am concerned, I have about covered my expenses with the interest you have scratched together, and I have the priority with the assets. Oh, you wait; I shan’t come short. I know everything pretty well, my good friend; I have an inventory already in my pocket. Ah, ha! We shall see that no dressing-gown and no silver bread-basket gets away.” “Kesselmeyer, you have sat at my table--” “Oh, be quiet with your table! In eight days I’ll be back for the answer. I shall walk in to town--the fresh air will do me good. Good morning, my friend, good morning!”