The money is not yours: it is mine.

I draw it all out, and I insist on having it." Turner continued to bite his thumb, and glanced at her without speaking.
"Now, damn it all, Turner!" said Colville, in a voice suddenly hoarse; "hand it over, man." "I tell you it is gone," was the answer.
"What?
Three hundred and fifty thousand pounds?
Then you are a rogue! You are a fraudulent trustee! I always thought you were a damned scoundrel, Turner, and now I know it.

I'll get you to the galleys for the rest of your life, I promise you that." "You will gain nothing by that," returned the banker, staring at the date-card in front of him.

"And you will lose any chance there is of recovering something from the wreck.

Mrs.St.Pierre Lawrence had better take the advice of her lawyer--in preference to yours." "Then I am ruined!" said that lady, rising, with an air of resolution.
She was brave, at all events.
"At the present moment, it looks like it," admitted Turner, without meeting her eye.
"What am I to do ?" murmured Mrs.St.Pierre Lawrence, looking helplessly round the room and finally at the banker's stolid face.
"Like the rest of us, I suppose," he admitted.