All your vitality would have been drawn out of you by those octopus arms." "I do not agree with you in the least about any of those points," John Derringham said stiffly.

"I have the highest respect for Mrs.
Cricklander--but I can't do it." "Well, you can thank whichever of your stars has brought you to this conclusion," growled the Professor.

"I suppose I'll pull through somehow financially," the restless visitor went on, pacing the floor--"anyway, for a few years; there may be something more to be squeezed out of Derringham.

I must see." "Well, if you are not marrying that need not distress you," Cheiron consoled him with.

"Those things only matter if a man has a son." John Derringham stopped abruptly in his walk and looked at his old master.
His words gave him a strange twinge, but he crushed it down, and went on again: "It is a curse, this want of money," he said.