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Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth), 1835-1915

"Charlotte's Inheritance"

I know he's up to his eyebrows in companies, but I don't see how he's
to make his fortune out of _them_, for limited liability now-a-days seems
only another name for unlimited crash. However, I don't care. It pleased
my governor to get me into Sheldon's office, and it suited my book to
come to London; but if the author of my being thinks I'm going to addle
my blessed brains with the decline and fall of the money market, he's a
greater fool than I took him for--and that's saying a great deal."
And here Mr. Frederick Orcott lapsed into admiring contemplation of his
boots, which were the _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of a sporting bootmaker; boots
that were of the ring, ringy, and of the corner, cornery.
"Ah," said George, "and Phil doesn't tell you much of his affairs,
doesn't he? That's rather a bad sign, I should think. Looks as if he was
rather down upon his luck, eh?"
"Well, there's no knowing, you see, with that sort of close fish. He may
have made his book for a great haul, and may be keeping himself quiet
till the event comes off. He may be laying on to something with all his
might, you know, on safe information. But there's one thing I know he
stands to lose by."
"What's that?"
"The Phoenician Loan. He speculated in the bonds when they began to go
down; and I'm blessed if they haven't been dropping ever since, an
eighth a day, as regular as the day comes round.


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