I've got a bundle packed, and I'm going straight off directly I leave you." Mr.Bloxford's countenance fell, and he whistled.
"Bad as that, is it?
Whatever have you done?
Well, well, I won't ask any questions.

I've met some of your sort before; there's always something shady--though it goes against the grain with me to think that you've done anything low down and mean.

But I see there's no use talking." He thrust his hand in his breast-pocket, in which, with his love of ostentation, he always carried a bundle of notes and some loose gold, and, as he held out his hand to Derrick, there was something crisp in it.
Derrick shook the hand and pressed back the note; he could not speak for a minute; then he said, rather huskily: "It's all right, Mr.Bloxford.You paid me on Friday night, and I've plenty to go on with." With that he went out, heavy-hearted, and Mr.Bloxford stood at the door, his extraordinary face drawn into a thousand wrinkles and his lips shaping strange oaths..