"Then I won't say it." Pensively, a minute, he appeared to figure the words, in their absurdity, on the lips of some young man not, like himself, tactful.

"I know just what you mean." "But I think, you know, that you ought to tell your father," Mr.
Cashmore said.
"Tell him I've borrowed of you ?" Mr.Cashmore good-humouredly demurred.

"It would serve me right--it's so wretched my having listened to you.

Tell him, certainly," he went on after an instant.

"But what I mean is that if you're in such straits you should speak to him like a man." Harold smiled at the innocence of a friend who could suppose him not to have exhausted that resource.