"I think you are very lucky," he said. There was silence, then he
asked abruptly--"How much are they going to give you for it?"
"Three thousand francs."
Howard paled suddenly and fixed his eyes upon me.
"And what will you do with it?" he asked, after a minute.
"Well," I answered, without reflection, "I thought you would like
two thousand to send home and get rid of that half-yearly interest."
The blood dyed all his face suddenly crimson, and he brought down
his feet upon the fender with a crash.
"I wish to hell you'd wait till I asked you for it!" he said
savagely, springing up and crossing to the window.
There he stood looking out with his hands thrust deep into his
pockets. I was fairly startled, and the colour rose uncomfortably in
my own face.
It seemed, I almost felt, as if I had done something excessively
ill-bred. But Howard and I were on such intimate terms, and made so
little account of what we said to each other, that I had expressed
the thought uppermost in my mind at the moment of his question as a
matter of course. Then, too, he borrowed so constantly and so freely
from me that the idea of offence over money matters or mentioning
them seemed quite impossible.
"No," I thought, glancing at him as he still stood between me and
the light; "there must be something else in his mind," and I
wondered.
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