BOOK IV. THREE LOVE PROBLEMS.
41. CHAPTER XLI.
"Come, now, Josh," he was saying, in a full rumbling tone, "look at it
in this light: here is your poor mother going into the vale of years,
and you could afford something handsome now to make her comfortable."
"Not while you live. Nothing would make her comfortable while
you live," returned Rigg, in his cool high voice. "What I give her,
"You bear me a grudge, Josh, that I know. But come, now--as between
man and man--without humbug--a little capital might enable me to make
a first-rate thing of the shop. The tobacco trade is growing.
I should cut my own nose off in not doing the best I could at it.
I should stick to it like a flea to a fleece for my own sake.
I should always be on the spot. And nothing would make your
poor mother so happy. I've pretty well done with my wild oats--
turned fifty-five. I want to settle down in my chimney-corner. And
if I once buckled to the tobacco trade, I could bring an amount
of brains and experience to bear on it that would not be found
elsewhere in a hurry. I don't want to be bothering you one time
after another, but to get things once for all into the right channel.
Consider that, Josh--as between man and man--and with your poor mother
to be made easy for her life. I was always fond of the old woman,
"Have you done?" said Mr. Rigg, quietly, without looking away
from the window.
"Yes, I've done," said Raffles, taking hold of his hat which stood
before him on the table, and giving it a sort of oratorical push.