I resent your failure to do it now, as though you drew a line between me and your intimates.

If you're really my friend, show it!" There was a pause.

A curious and unaccustomed sensation had silenced Mortimer, something almost akin to shame.

It astonished him a little.
He did not quite understand why, in the very moment of success over this stolid, shrewd young man and his thrifty Dutch instincts, he should feel uncomfortable.

Were not his services worth something?
Had he not earned at least the right to borrow from this rich man who could afford to pay for what was done for him?
Why should he feel ashamed?
He had not been treacherous; he really liked the fellow.