'
'A couple of days!' cried Morris, who was beginning to get angry and
controlled himself with difficulty; 'why, you would do more to win five
pounds on a horse-race!'
'Perhaps I would,' returned the Great Vance; 'it's the artistic
temperament.'
'This is monstrous!' burst out Morris. 'I take all risks; I pay all
expenses; I divide profits; and you won't take the slightest pains to
help me. It's not decent; it's not honest; it's not even kind.'
'But suppose,' objected John, who was considerably impressed by his
brother's vehemence, 'suppose that Uncle Masterman is alive after all,
and lives ten years longer; must I rot here all that time?'
'Of course not,' responded Morris, in a more conciliatory tone; 'I only
ask a month at the outside; and if Uncle Masterman is not dead by that
time you can go abroad.'
'Go abroad?' repeated John eagerly. 'Why shouldn't I go at once? Tell
'em that Joseph and I are seeing life in Paris.'
'Nonsense,' said Morris.
'Well, but look here,' said John; 'it's this house, it's such a pig-sty,
it's so dreary and damp. You said yourself that it was damp.
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