To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse. "Got the rooms mixed. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. We’ve brought a carriage to take you back to London, and I’ve settled with Trodger, who has just given me a coherent account of the affair.
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