'About that money, Mr Melmotte?'
'What money, my dear fellow? You see that a good many money matters pass through my hands.'
'The thousand pounds I gave you for shares. If you don't mind, and as the shares seem to be a bother, I'll take the money back.'
'It was only the other day you had £200,' said Melmotte, showing that he could apply his memory to small transactions when he pleased.
'Exactly;--and you might as well let me have the £800.'
'I've ordered the shares;--gave the order to my broker the other day.'
'Then I'd better take the shares,' said Sir Felix, feeling that it might very probably be that day fortnight before he could start for New York. 'Could I get them, Mr Melmotte?'
'My dear fellow, I really think you hardly calculate the value of my time when you come to me about such an affair as this.'
'I'd like to have the money or the shares,' said Sir Felix, who was not specially averse to quarrelling with Mr Melmotte now that he had resolved upon taking that gentleman's daughter to New York in direct opposition to his written promise. Their quarrel would be so thoroughly internecine when the departure should be discovered, that any present anger could hardly increase its bitterness. What Felix thought of now was simply his money, and the best means of getting it out of Melmotte's hands.
'You're a spendthrift,' said Melmotte, apparently relenting, 'and I'm afraid a gambler. I suppose I must give you £200 more on account.'
Sir Felix could not resist the touch of ready money, and consented to take the sum offered. As he pocketed the cheque he asked for the name of the brokers who were employed to buy the shares. But here Melmotte demurred 'No, my friend,' said Melmotte; 'you are only entitled to shares for £600 pounds now. I will see that the thing is put right.' So Sir Felix departed with £200 only. Marie had said that she could get £200. Perhaps if he bestirred himself and wrote to some of Miles's big relations he could obtain payment of a part of that gentleman's debt to him.
Sir Felix going down the stairs in Abchurch Lane met Paul Montague coming up. Carbury, on the spur of the moment, thought that he would 'take a rise' as he called it out of Montague. 'What's this I hear about a lady at Islington?' he asked.
'Who has told you anything about a lady at Islington?'
'A little bird. There are always little birds about telling of ladies. I'm told that I'm to congratulate you on your coming marriage.'