"Now listen to me, Dredlinton.
Why are you sitting there, looking like a whipped dog?
Why can't you wear a more cheerful face?
If it's Farnham's cheque you are worrying about, here it is," he added, drawing an oblong slip of paper from the pigeonhole of his desk, tearing it in two, and throwing it into the waste-paper basket.

"A year ago, you told me that the one thing in the world you needed was money.

Well, aren't you getting it?
You have only to run straight with us here, and to work in my interests in another quarter that you know of, and your fortune is made.

Cheer up and look as though you realised it." Dredlinton crossed and uncrossed his legs nervously.

His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids puffy.