_Mr. Toovey_ (_to himself_). I'm afraid CHARLES has lost every
particle of respect for me. I wish I had never told him about those
wretched shares. And what _am_ I to do now? If I go to this Eldorado
place, he may be there too; and, if he sees me, I shall never hear the
last of it! And yet my mind will never be easy unless I do go and see
for myself what it really is like. That young CURPHEW expects me to
go. But I don't know, I do so dread the idea of going--alone, too!
I should like to ask somebody else what he thinks I ought to
do--somebody who is a man of the world. I wonder if I went to see
LARKINS--he won't be in his office so late as this, but I might
catch him in his chambers. It was all through him I got into this
difficulty; he ought to help me out of it if he can. I really think I
might take a cab and drive to Piccadilly, on the chance.
[_He hails a Hansom, and drives off._