The moment a fellow came in, and handed me his card,
and said he had proofs of two kinds of articles in his pocket,
one praising me, one damning me, I told him to go and see
my advertising agent, and if he wouldn't do that, then to go
to hell. That's the way you've got to talk in the City,"
he added, as if in apologetic explanation.
Louisa looked impassively at her brother. "Oh, I've heard
the expression as far west as the Strand," she remarked.
"Well, then came the issue. That was last Saturday.
You saw the prospectus in Saturday morning's papers,
and in the weeklies. The list was to be kept open,
it said, till Wednesday morning--that was yesterday.
That is to say, during all that time, people could apply
for shares."
"Which they didn't do--according to your account,"
the sister suggested, dryly.
Thorpe passed his fingers through his roughened hair,
and eyed her with a momentary quizzical gleam in his eye.
Then he became serious again. The recollection of what he
was now to narrate brought a frown to his brows.
"On Tuesday afternoon," he began, with portentous
deliberation--"Or no, first I must explain something.
You see, in bringing out a company, you can't put up too
stout a bluff. I mean, you've got to behave as if you were
rolling in wealth--as if everything was coming your way,
and fortunes were to be made by fastening to you.
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