"I remember most things a little too well: you had better say at once what is your object in recalling them."
"An object that is nothing more than justice. With the relation I stood in, it was not likely I should think myself bound by all the forms that are made to bind strangers. I had often immense trouble to raise the money necessary to pay off debts and carry on the affairs; and, as I said before, I had given up other lines of advancement which would have been open to me if I had not stayed in this neighbourhood at a critical time when I was fresh to the world. Anybody who knew the whole circumstances would say that my being hunted and run down on the score of my past transactions with regard to the family affairs, is an abominably unjust and unnatural thing."
Jermyn paused a moment, and then added, "At my time of life . . . and with a family about me—and after what has passed . . . I should have thought there was nothing you would care more to prevent."
"I do care. It makes me miserable. That is the extent of my power—to feel miserable."
"No, it is not the extent of your power. You could save me if you would. It is not to be sup-