" Well! one would see that at the
creditors' meeting in half an hour.
"Mr. Pillin, sir."
"Show him in!"
In a fur coat which seemed to extinguish his thin form, Joe Pillin
entered. It was snowing, and the cold had nipped and yellowed his meagre
face between its slight grey whiskering. He said thinly:
"How are you, Sylvanus? Aren't you perished in this cold?"
"Warm as a toast. Sit down. Take off your coat."
"Oh! I should be lost without it. You must have a fire inside you. So-so
it's gone through?"
Old Heythorp nodded; and Joe Pillin, wandering like a spirit,
scrutinised the shut door. He came back to the table, and said in a low
voice:
"It's a great sacrifice."
Old Heythorp smiled.
"Have you signed the deed poll?"
Producing a parchment from his pocket Joe Pillin unfolded it with
caution to disclose his signature, and said:
"I don't like it--it's irrevocable."
A chuckle escaped old Heythorp.
"As death."
Joe Pillin's voice passed up into the treble clef.
"I can't bear irrevocable things. I consider you stampeded me, playing
on my nerves."
Examining the signatures old Heythorp murmured:
"Tell your lawyer to lock it up.
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