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Allen, Grant, 1848-1899

"What's Bred in the Bone"

"I said so
just now. You've no initiative. Cyril wouldn't be afraid. Knowing
the interests at stake, he'd take a firm stand and act off-hand on
his own discretion."
"Do you think so?" Guy faltered, in a hesitating voice.
Nevitt held him with his eye.
"Do I think so?" he echoed, "do I think so? I know it. Look here,
Guy, you and Cyril are practically one. If Cyril were here we'd ask
him at once to lend us the money. If we knew where Cyril was we'd
telegraph across and get his leave like a bird. But as he isn't
here, and as we don't know where he is, we must show some initiative;
we must act for once on our own responsibility, exactly as Cyril
would. It's only for six weeks. At the end of that time the unknown
benefactor stumps up your share. You needn't even tell Cyril, if
you don't like, of this little transaction. See! here's his cheque.
You fill it in and sign it. Nobody can tell the signature isn't
Cyril's. You take the money and release us both. In six weeks' time
you get your own share of the unnatural parent's bribe. You pay
it in to his credit, and not a living soul on earth but ourselves
need ever be one penny the wiser."
Guy tried to look away, but he couldn't. He couldn't.


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