"I ask you," said Markheim, "for a Christmas pres-
ent, and you give me this — this damned reminder of
years, and sins and follies — this hand-conscience ! Did
you mean it ? Had you a thought in your mind ? TeU
me. It will be better for you if you do. Come, tell me
about yourself. I hazard a guess now, that you are in
secret a very charitable man ? "

The dealer looked closely at his companion. It was
very odd, Markheim did not appear to be laughing ;
there was something in his face like an eager sparkle of
hope, but nothing of mirth.
" What are you driving at ?" the dealer asked.
" Not charitable ? " returned the other, gloomily.
" Not charitable ; not pious ; not scrupulous ; unloving,
unbeloved; a hand to get money, a safe to keep it.
Is that all ? Dear God, man, is that all ?"

"I will tell you what it is," began the dealer, with
some sharpness, and then broke off again into a chuckle.
" But I see this is a love match of yours, and you have
been drinking the lady's health."

" Ah ! " cried Markheim, with a strange curiosity.
" Ah, have you been in love ? Tell me about that."

"I," cried the dealer. "I in love ! I never had the
time, nor have I the time to-day for all this nonsense.
