to have the bills presented, which were on the point of falling due."
"It was the usual custom," struck in the Jew.
"It's the usual custom, Bernstein says, and I'm not denying it. When Philip got the letter, he came red-hot to me, asking what it meant I had had a bad day or two, and some unpleasant nights, and was feeling hipped just when he came. Besides, his coming took me unawares; I was not expecting him—for the present. When I perceived what was in his voice, and in his eyes, and in the twitchings of his hands, I was afraid. I lied to him; pretending that I had no notion of what it was that Bernstein wrote; protesting that any bills which he might hold had nothing at all to do with me. I could see he doubted, but having no proof positive that what I said was false, he went, warning me what I might expect if it turned out that I had lied. It was good hearing, to know what I might expect—from him—if it turned out that I had lied.
"I went to Bernstein, to implore him to have mercy; though I knew that in him mercy was less frequent than water in a rock."
"I am a man of business! You had had my money! I am a business man!"
"He would have none. I found young Moore. I told him that certain bills had been discounted which bore my brother's name, and
