"I'm afraid I sacrificed you, Loudon," he said, looking
at me pitifully.
"Sacrificed me?" I repeated. "How? What do you mean by
sacrifice?"
"I know it'll shock your delicate self-respect," he
said; "but what was I to do? Things looked so bad. The
receiver----" (as usual, the name stuck in his throat,
and he began afresh). "There was a lot of talk, the
reporters were after me already; there was the trouble,
and all about the Mexican business; and I got scared
right out, and I guess I lost my head. You weren't
there, you see, and that was my temptation."
I did not know how long he might thus beat about the
bush with dreadful hintings, and I was already beside
myself with terror. What had he done? I saw he had
been tempted; I knew from his letters that he was in no
condition to resist. How had he sacrificed the absent?
"Jim," I said, "you must speak right out. I've got all
that I can carry."
"Well," he said--"I know it was a liberty--I made it
out you were no business man, only a stonebroke
painter; that half the time you didn't know anything
anyway, particularly money and accounts.
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