Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“Wait a minute, won’t you—I’m almost through.” He looked at Michael with frightened eyes. “I used that money sometimes without even realizing that it wasn’t mine. I’ve always had plenty of my own, you see. Till this week.” He hesitated. “This week there was a meeting of this society and they asked me to turn over the money. Well, I went to a couple of men to try and borrow it and as soon as my back was turned one of them blabbed. There was a terrible blow-up last night. They told me unless I handed over the two thousand this morning they’d send me to jail—” His voice rose and he looked around wildly. “There’s a warrant out for me now—and if I can’t get the money I’ll kill myself, Michael; I swear to God I will; I won’t go to prison. I’m an artist—not a business man. I—”

He made an effort to control his voice.

“Michael,” he whispered, “you’re my oldest friend. I haven’t got anyone in the world but you to turn to.”

“You’re a little late,” said Michael uncomfortably. “You didn’t think of me four years ago when you asked my wife to run away with you.”