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Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth), 1835-1915

"Fenton's Quest"

But the time has come when I can't put him
off any longer. He wants money badly, he says; and I'm afraid he begins
to suspect something. Any way, he talks of coming here in a week or so to
look into things for himself. If he does that, I'm ruined."
"But the money, father--the money for the crops--how has it gone? You had
it, haven't you?"
"Yes," the bailiff answered with a groan; "I've had it, worse luck."
"And how has it gone?"
"What's that to you? What's the good of my muddling my brains with
figures to-night? It's gone, I tell you. You know I'm fond of seeing a
race, and never miss anything in that way that comes-off within a day's
drive of this place. I used to be pretty lucky once upon a time, when I
backed a horse or bet against one. But this year things have gone dead
against me; and my bad luck made me savage somehow, so that I went deeper
than I've been before, thinking to get back what I'd lost."
"O, father, father! how could you, and with another man's money?"
"Don't give me any of your preaching," the bailiff answered gloomily; "I
can get enough of that at Malsham Chapel if I want it. It's in your power
to pull me through this business if you choose."
"How can I do that, father?"
"A couple of hundred pounds will set me square. I don't say there hasn't
been more taken, first and last; but that would do it.


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