"
"How old are you?" I asked.
"Exactly twenty-five."
"I thought that you could not be older than that. Aren't you afraid to
be so far away from home?"
Pembroke lay back and laughed. "You haven't thanked me yet."
"I must get a new tailor," said I. "What! shall I pay a tailor to make
a well-dressed man out of me, and then become an object of charity? Do
I look, then, like a man who is desperately in need of money?"
"No, you don't look it. That's because you are clever. But what is
your salary to a man of your brains?"
"It is bread and butter and lodging."
He laughed again. To laugh seemed to be a part of his business.
"Jack, I haven't a soul in the world but you. I have only known you
three days, but it seems that I have known you all my life. I have so
much money that I cannot even fritter away the income."
"It must be a sad life," said I.
"And if you do not accept the sum in the spirit it is given, I'll
double it, and then you'll have trouble. You will be a rich man, then,
with all a rich man's cares and worries."
"You ought to have a trustee to take care of your money.
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