To The West
By George Manville Fenn
19 Nov, 2019
“What would I do, sir? Why, if I were as poor as you say you are, and couldn’t get on here, I’d go abroad.”
“But where, sir? where to?”
“Anywhere. Don’t ask me. The world’s big enough and round enough for you, isn’t it?”
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“What would I do, sir? Why, if I were as poor as you say you are, and couldn’t get on here, I’d go abroad.”
“But where, sir? where to?”
“Anywhere. Don’t ask me. The world’s big enough and round enough for you, isn’t it?”
“But without means, Mr. Dempster?”
“Yes, sir, without means. Work, sir—work. The same as I have done. I pay my poor-rate, and I can’t afford to help other people. Good morning.”
I heard every word uttered as I sat on my stool in the outer office, and I felt as if I could see my employer, short, stout, fierce-looking and grey, frowning at the thin, pale, middle-aged man whom I had ushered in—Mr. John Dempster he told me his name was—and who had come to ask for the loan of a little money, as he was in sore distress. Less