"
"Glad to hear it," thought Severne. "Well, let me see, you can't back
your luck with less than five hundred."
"Well, but we have been out two months; I am afraid I haven't so much
left. Just let me see." He took out his pocket-book, and examined his
letter of credit. "Do you want it to-day?"
"Why, yes; I do."
"Well, then, I am afraid you can only have three hundred. But I will
telegraph Herries, and funds will be here to-morrow afternoon."
"All right," said Severne.
Vizard took him to the bank, and exhausted his letter of credit: then to
the telegraph-office, and telegraphed Herries to enlarge his credit at
once. He handed Severne the three hundred pounds. The young man's eye
flashed, and it cost him an effort not to snatch them and wave them over
his head with joy: but he controlled himself, and took them like
two-pence-halfpenny. "Thank you, old fellow," said he. Then, still more
carelessly, "Like my I O U?"
"As you please," said Vizard, with similar indifference; only real.
After he had got the money, Severne's conversational powers
relaxed--short answers--long reveries.
Vizard observed, stopped short, and eyed him.
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