SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 210 | Next

Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Deluge"

"
"No apology necessary," said I with the utmost good nature. "I've no
personal interest in Textile. My house deals on commission only, you
know--never on margins for myself. I'm a banker and broker, not a gambler.
Some of our customers were alarmed by the news of the big increase, and
insisted on bringing suit to stop it. But I'm going to urge them now to let
the matter drop."
Tom tried to look natural, and as he is an apt pupil of his brother's, he
succeeded fairly well. His glance, however, wouldn't fix steadily on my
gaze, but circled round and round it like a bat at an electric light. "To
tell you the truth," said he, "I'm extremely nervous as to what my brother
will say--and do--to me, when I tell him. I hope no harm came to you
through my forgetfulness."
"None in the world," I assured him. Then I turned on Sam. "What are you
doing down town to-day?" said I. "Are you on your way to see me?"
He flushed with angry shame, reading an insinuation into my careless
remark, when I had not the remotest intention of reminding him that his
customary object in coming down town was to play the parasite and the
sponge at my expense. I ought to have guessed at once that there was
some good reason for his recovery of his refined, high-bred, gentlemanly
super-sensibilities; but I was not in the mood to analyze trifles, though
my nerves were taking careful record of them.


Pages:
198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222