You suit me very well." "James, such business wont suit me.

I can't afford to be brought into notice.

I would rather lose double the money than prosecute any gentleman in trouble." The older man had reasoned right--James dared not risk the note out of sight, dared not trust to Starkie's prosecution.

He longed to have the bit of paper in his own keeping, and after a wary battle of a full hour's length Andrew Starkie had his L89 back again, and James had the note in his pocket-book.
Through the fog, and through the wind, and through the rain he went, and he knew nothing, and he felt nothing but that little bit of paper against his breast.

Oh, how greedily he remembered Donald's handsome looks and stately ways, and all the thousand little words and acts by which he imagined himself wronged and insulted.