“Riderhood, I am a man who has lived a retired life. I have no resources beyond myself. I have absolutely no friends.”

“That’s a lie,” said Riderhood. “You’ve got one friend as I knows of; one as is good for a Savings-Bank book, or I’m a blue monkey!”

Bradley’s face darkened, and his hand slowly closed on the purse and drew it back, as he sat listening for what the other should go on to say.

“I went into the wrong shop, fust, last Thursday,” said Riderhood. “Found myself among the young ladies, by George! Over the young ladies, I see a Missis. That Missis is sweet enough upon you, Master, to sell herself up, slap, to get you out of trouble. Make her do it then.”

Bradley stared at him so very suddenly that Riderhood, not quite knowing how to take it, affected to be occupied with the encircling smoke from his pipe; fanning it away with his hand, and blowing it off.