Here, however, were two finger-posts to Paris--Jim was
going to be married, and so had the less need of my
society; I had not pleased his bride, and so was,
perhaps, better absent. Late one evening I broached
the idea to my friend. It had been a great day for me;
I had just banked my five thousand Catamountain
dollars; and as Jim had refused to lay a finger on the
stock, risk and profit were both wholly mine, and I was
celebrating the event with stout and crackers. I began
by telling him that if it caused him any pain or any
anxiety about his affairs, he had but to say the word,
and he should hear no more of my proposal. He was the
truest and best friend I ever had, or was ever like to
have; and it would be a strange thing if I refused him
any favour he was sure he wanted. At the same time I
wished him to be sure; for my life was wasting in my
hands. I was like one from home: all my true interests
summoned me away. I must remind him, besides, that he
was now about to marry and assume new interests, and
that our extreme familiarity might be even painful to
his wife.
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