"I am sorry I have been unable to see you," he said. "But I have been dreadfully harassed in business. You country gentlemen think that capitalists like myself have unlimited cash. Never, my dear Sir George, was there a greater mistake. There are times when I would give one of my ears for a thousand pounds in hard cash. Everything we have is locked up, and bankers are so chary of speculative securities. Of course, it comes all right in the long run, but really, for some days, matters have been extremely critical. However, I managed to make a satisfactory arrangement last night, and came home dead tired, with the full intention of not going near the City for two or three days. I hope there is nothing amiss with you. I don't suppose there is. Ah, you want to be in my line to know what anxiety is." "I think I've a pretty fair idea of it," Sir George said, as he shook hands. "You have been good enough to advise me once or twice, and I thought I would come over this morning and consult you about a worry of my own. I came on the off-chance, and esteem myself fortunate to find you at home." "Oh, not at all, not at all," Copley said breezily. "In fact, I was coming to see you. My conscience has been pricking me, and I feel I have been very rude. But come into the library and tell me all about it. I'll help you if I can." "You are exceedingly good," Sir George said gratefully. "I have had a most unpleasant shock this morning. It has to do with those people, Absalom & Co. They tell me you have transferred my debt to them. I can't understand it." Copley shook his head as he motioned his visitor to a chair. He passed over the cigars to Sir George, and sat down to listen in an attitude of respectful attention.