Jack stood again in silence, looking at him.

"How much money did your sale make?"

"That's immaterial. Besides, I forget. The important fact is that when
I've paid all my bills I shall have thirteen pounds eleven shillings and
eightpence."

"What?"

"Thirteen pounds eleven shillings and eightpence."

Jack burst into a mirthless laugh.

"Well, come along to lunch," he said.

* * * * *

It seemed to Jack that he moved in a dreary kind of dream that afternoon
as he went about with Frank from shop to shop, paying bills. Frank's
trouser-pockets bulged and jingled a good deal as they started--he had
drawn all his remaining money in gold from the bank--and they bulged
and jingled considerably less as the two returned to tea in Jesus Lane.
There, on the table, he spread out the coins. He had bought some
tobacco, and two or three other things that afternoon, and the total
amounted now but to twelve pounds nineteen shillings and fourpence.

"Call it thirteen pounds," said Frank. "There's many a poor man--"

"Don't be a damned fool!" said Jack.