...

Can I do anything for you, Leroy ?" Mortimer became indignant at the implied distrust of the purity of his motives; and Plank, failing to stem the maudlin tirade, relapsed into patient silence, speculating within himself as to what it could be that Mortimer wanted.
It came out presently.

Mortimer had attended a "killing" at Desmond's, and, as usual, had provided the piece de resistance for his soft-voiced host.

All he wanted was a temporary deposit to tide over matters.

He had never approached Plank in vain, and he did not do so now, for Plank had a pocket cheque-book and a stylograph.
"It's damn little to ask, isn't it ?" he muttered resentfully.