"My dear Doctor," said Clive, "will you explain what you mean? Cursed mine--too late--get them back from him. To begin with, who is `him'?" "Who is `him'?" cried the Doctor furiously. "Why, that confounded brother of yours. After all that has passed, I was obliged to go to him hat in hand, and humble myself so as to try and save what I could out of the fire." "In heaven's name, what fire, sir?" cried Clive, who, after his sleepless night and anxiety, was growing more and more confused. "For," continued the Doctor, without heeding the question, "I said to myself: He's cursedly knowing on 'Change, and for the sake of Janet and his expectations of what he may get from me, he'll do his best, and he may know where to get a good price." "My dear sir, have you taken leave of your senses?" "Almost, you scoundrel. Money spoils all men. Sucks all the honesty out of them. You're as bad as the rest. But I didn't think you would put me in such a hole. Now then: shall I leave them in Jessop's hands or place them in yours, to cheat somebody else with the cursed rubbish. I'm a bit reckless now, for it's ruin nearly, and drudgery to the end of my days." "Look here," said Clive excitedly; "do I understand that you have given your shares in the `White Virgin' to Jessop to sell?" "Of course you do, sir. Was I to wait till they were worth nothing?" "Look here, Doctor: speak plainly. Are you all right?" "Confound you, no: I'm all wrong." "But explain yourself. Those shares are worth double what you gave for them." "I tell you they're hardly worth their weight as waste-paper," roared the Doctor. "Don't stare at me with that miserable assumption of innocency about your cursed bankrupt old mine." Clive burst out laughing. "Why, what do you mean, Doctor? What precious mare's nest have you been discovering in the dark?" "Mare's nest?" cried the Doctor, snatching up a heap of newspapers from a side table, and throwing them in the young man's lap, "look at that, sir, and that, and that. Four days now has this been going on. I was down in the country at a consultation, and I came back to find myself a ruined man." "What!" roared Clive, as his eyes fell upon a notice with a full heading--"`Collapse of the "White Virgin" scheme--bubble cleverly inflated--burst at last--serious loss.' Good heavens!" "Good other place!" growled the Doctor. "Oh, Clive Reed! You are a broken Reed indeed to lean on, and enter into a poor man's hand. But there, don't stop over those papers; they are alike, and the price has gone down to nothing. Tell me; can you sell my shares better than Jessop can? I must have a little back for my outlay." "What did Jessop tell you?" "What does every man tell you when he has you at his mercy? That the paper was worthless, but he might get some speculative fool to buy them; and if I waited there at his office he would try, but I must expect the merest trifle for them." "Well?" said Clive, frowning.