You live--and live in luxury--by the worst
vice of our time, the vice which is rotting English life, the vice which
will be our national ruin if it goes on much longer. When you were a boy,
you've heard me many a time say all I thought about racing and betting;
you've heard me speak with scorn of the high-placed people who set so vile
an example to the classes below them. If I could have foreseen that _you_
would sink to such disgrace!'
Charles was standing in an attitude of contemptuous patience. He looked at
his watch and interjected a remark.
'I can only allow your eloquence one minute and a half more.'
'That will be enough,' replied his father sternly. 'The only thing I have
to add is, that all the money you have stolen from Mr. Bowles I, as a
simple duty, shall repay. You're no longer a boy. In the eye of the law I
am not responsible for you; but for very shame I must make good the wrong
you have done in this case. I couldn't stand in my shop day by day, and
know that every one was saying, "There's the man whose son ruined Mr.
Lott's son-in-law and sold up his home," unless I had done all I could to
repair the mischief. I shall ask Mr. Bowles for a full account of what he
has lost to you, and if it's in my power, every penny shall be made good.
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