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Book, page 21 / 161 "No," said I. The lad bowed politely, slipped the dishonoured note into his pocket, and retired. I drew a long breath, leaned back in my chair with a sense of relief, and murmured--"Not such a dreadful affair, after all. So, I am protested! The operation is over, and I hardly felt the pain. And now what next?" As I said this, the man whose Siberian face had almost congealed me entered my store, and came hurriedly back to where I still remained sitting. His face was far less wintry. The fact was, I owed the firm fifteen thousand dollars, which was no joke; and they were nearly as much alarmed, when they found that my note was actually under protest, as I was before the fact. "Is it possible, Mr. Jones," he said, his voice as husky and tremulous as mine was when I called upon him an hour or two before, "that you have suffered your note to lie over!" "Did I not inform you that such would be the case?" I replied, with assumed sternness of voice and manner. The boot was on the other leg, and I was not slow in recognising the fact. "But what do you intend to do, Mr. Jones? What is the state of your affairs?" "At the proper time, I will inform you," I answered, coldly. "You have driven me into a protest, and you must stand the consequences." "Are your affairs desperate, Mr. Jones?" The creditor became almost imploring in his manner. "They will probably become so now. Does a man's note lie over without his affairs becoming desperate?" "Perhaps"-- There was a pause. I looked unflinchingly into the man's face.
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