Thorpe unbuttoned
his overcoat, laid aside his hat, and seated himself.
"I've worked out the whole scheme," he began, as if introducing
the product of many sleepless nights' cogitations.
"I'm going to leave England almost immediately--go
on the Continent and loaf about--I've never seen the Continent."
Semple regarded him in silence. "Well?" he observed
at last.
"You see the idea, don't you?" Thorpe demanded.
The broker twitched his shoulders slightly. "Go on,"
he said.
"But the idea is everything," protested the other.
"We've been thinking of beginning the campaign straight
away--but the true game now is to lie low--silent as the grave.
I go away now, d'ye see? Nothing particular is said about it,
of course, but in a month or two somebody notices that
I'm not about, and he happens to mention it to somebody
else--and so there gets to be the impression that things
haven't gone well with me, d'ye see? On the same plan,
I let all the clerks at my office go. The Secretary'll
come round every once in a while to get letters, of course,
and perhaps he'll keep a boy in the front office for show,
but practically the place'll be shut up. That'll help
out the general impression that I've gone to pieces.
Now d'ye see?"
"It's the Special Settlement you're thinking of,"
commented Semple.
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