Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless
person upon earth,—a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of
a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centered
upon his own silly self. If anything could have driven me
from Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a
father-in-law. I am convinced that he really believed in his
heart that I came round to the Chestnuts three days a
week for the pleasure of his company, and very especially
to hear his views upon bimetallism, a subject upon which
he was by way of being an authority.
For an hour or more that evening I listened to his
monotonous chirrup about bad money driving out good,
the token value of silver, the depreciation of the rupee,
and the true standards of exchange.
‘Suppose,’ he cried with feeble violence, ‘that all the
debts in the world were called up simultaneously, and
immediate payment insisted upon,—what under our
present conditions would happen then?’
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