"One does not speak of family affairs."
"I asked you how much it was," pursued Thorpe, in a masterful tone.
"A man doesn't want to rob a girl of her marriage portion."
"I think I must not answer you," the other replied,
hesitatingly. "It was the fault of my emotion to introduce
the subject. Pray leave the young lady out of account."
"Then I've nothing more to say," Thorpe declared,
and seated himself again with superfluous energy.
He scowled for a little at the disorder of his desk,
and then flung forth an angry explanation. "If you evade
fair questions like that, how can you expect that I will go
out of my way to help you?"
"Oh, permit me, Mr. Thorpe"--the Marquis intervened
soothingly--"I think you misapprehend. My friend,
I am sure, wished to evade nothing. He had the idea
that he was at fault in--in alluding to a purely
domestic matter as--as a--what shall I say?--as a plea
for your consideration." He turned to the old banker.
"You will not refuse to mention the sum to me, will you,
my friend?"
M. Fromentin shrugged his shoulders. "It is ten
thousand pounds," he replied, almost curtly.
Thorpe was seemingly mollified. "Very well, then," he said.
"I will sell you 2,000 shares at ten pounds."
The others exchanged a wondering look.
"Monsieur," the banker stammered--"I see your meaning.
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