It was a young man of no very distinguished
appearance, thin, red-haired, with a pasty complexion and a scrubby
moustache; his clothes were approaching shabbiness, and he had an unwashed
look, due in part to hasty travel on this hot day. Streaming with sweat,
his features distorted with angry excitement, he shouted as he entered,
'You've got to see me, Daffy; I won't be refused!' In the same moment his
glance discovered the two visitors, and he stopped short. 'Mr. Lott, you
here? I'm glad of it--I'm awfully glad of it. I couldn't have wished
anything better. I don't know who this other gentleman is, but it doesn't
matter. I'm glad to have witnesses--I'm infernally glad! Mr. Lott, you've
been to my house this morning; you know what's happened there. I had to go
out of town yesterday, and this Daffy, this cursed liar and swindler, used
the opportunity to sell up my furniture. He'll tell you he had a legal
right. But he gave me his word not to do anything till the end of the
month. And, in any case, I don't really owe him half the sum he has down
against me. I've paid that black-hearted scoundrel hundreds of
pounds--honourably paid him--debts of honour, and now he has the face to
charge me sixty per cent, on money I was fool enough to borrow from him!
Sixty per cent.
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