We mustn't make a mess of
things."
Chilcote shifted his position.
"Three weeks!" he repeated. "Couldn't you--?"
"No; I couldn't." Loder spoke authoritatively. "I might never
want to put pen to paper, but, on the other hand, I might have
to sign a check one day." He laughed. "Have you ever thought
of that?--that I might have to, or want to, sign a check?"
"No. I confess that escaped me."
"You risk your fortune that you, may keep the place it bought
for you?" Loder laughed again. "How do you know that I am not
a blackguard?" he added. "How do you know that I won't clear
out one day and leave you high and dry? What is to prevent
John Chilcote from realizing forty or fifty thousand pounds
and then making himself scarce?"
"You won't do that," Chilcote said, with unusual decision. "I
told you your weakness last night; and it wasn't money. Money
isn't the rock you'll split over."
"Then you think I'll split upon some rock? But that's beyond
the question. To get to business again.
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