'Un banco de quatre millions,' said the croupier.
Phineas Finn, 1869 3200 0 0
I must, however, exculpate the gentleman who acted as my agent, from undue persuasion exercised towards me. He was a man who thoroughly understood Parliament, having sat there himself — and he sits there now at this moment. He understood Yorkshire — or, at least, the East Riding of Yorkshire, in which Beverley is situated — certainly better than any one alive. He understood all the mysteries of canvassing, and he knew well the traditions, the condition, and the prospect of the Liberal party. I will not give his name, but they who knew Yorkshire in 1868 will not be at a loss to find it. “So,” said he, “you are going to stand for Beverley?” I replied gravely that I was thinking of doing so. “You don’t expect to get in?” he said. Again I was grave. I would not, I said, be sanguine, but, nevertheless, I was disposed to hope for the best. “Oh, no!” continued he, with good-humoured raillery, “you won’t get in. I don’t suppose you really expect it. But there is a fine career open to you. You will spend ￡1000, and lose the election. Then you will petition, and spend another ￡1000. You will throw out the elected members. There will be a commission, and the borough will be disfranchised. For a beginner such as you are, that will be a great success.” And yet, in the teeth of this, from a man who knew all about it, I persisted in going to Beverley!
Bond scratched his head thoughtfully. 'But the ball's still in play?'
'Very happy indeed, thank you, aunt,' I said.
‘My father remembers “Sister Char” as the life and soul of their nursery circle in Portland Place,—how in the gardens close by she used to lead their glees and songs.... We knew what a great hand Auntie Char was at games of all kinds. No one could play like her. She seemed far younger than any child present, and was quite an enthusiast in them, as in everything she undertook. No one could play half-heartedly with her....