“Get it repaired yourself!” “But, Frank,” I exclaimed, quivering with fear lest he should go away.
“Wait a minute. Do take the watch! It’s really silver, really and truly. And I haven’t got anything else.”
He gave me a cold and scornful look. “Very well, then, you know who I am going to; or I can tell the police.
I know the sergeant very well.” He turned to go. I held him back by the sleeve.
I could not let that happen. I would much rather have died than bear all that would take place if he went away like that.
“Frank,” I implored, hoarse with emotion, “please don’t do anything silly! Tell me it’s only a joke, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, a joke, but it might cost you dear.” “Do tell me, Frank, what to do. I’ll do anything!”
He examined me critically through his screwed-up eyes and laughed again.
“Don’t be silly,” he said with affected affability. “You know as well as I do.
I’ve got the chance of earning a couple of marks, and I’m not such a rich fellow that I can afford to throw it away, you know that well enough.
But you’re rich, why, you’ve even got a watch. You need only give me just two marks and everything will be all right.”
I understood his logic. But two marks! For me that was as much, and just as unobtainable, as ten, as a hundred, as a thousand marks.
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