"Well," replied Mr. Kirby, "I hope you 've got proof, that 's all! And I hope, if you haven't got proof, that you haven't been talking to anybody else! For if you can't prove that he did it it 's slander, you know. You 're a rich man, Brassington! You 're the kind of man these gentry like to go for, eh?"
Mr. Brassington, like most of his fellow-subjects, lay in a panic terror of lawyers and their arts. He was appreciably paler when he answered in a far more subdued tone.
"I don't exactly say he did it, I wouldn't say more than I can prove, would I? Only," and here his voice rose again, "he 's got the money out of me somehow, and …"
"Now look here, Brassington," said Mr. Kirby quietly, "will you leave this with me?"
As Mr. Kirby said this he put his head somewhat on one side, thrust his hands into his pockets, and got the seated Mr. Brassington into focus.
"No—er—yes—if you like," said Mr. Brassington. "How long?"
Mr. Kirby put his hand before his face and leant his elbow upon the mantelpiece.
"I don't know," he said after a few
