He said to himself that in all
the miraculous run of luck which the year had brought him,
this was the most extraordinary manifestation of the lot.
It had been so easy to ignore the existence of this tiresome
and fatuous old man, so long as he was in remote Mexico,
that he had practically forgotten him. But he should
not soon forget the frightened shock with which he
had learned of his presence in London, that afternoon.
For a minute or two, there in his sister's book-shop,
it had seemed as if he were falling through the air--as
if the substantial earth had crumbled away from under him.
But then his nerve had returned to him, his resourceful
brain had reasserted itself. With ready shrewdness he had
gone out, and met the emergency, and made it the servant
of his own purposes.
He could be glad now, unreservedly glad, that Tavender had
come to London, that things had turned out as they had.
In truth, he stood now for the first time on solid ground.
When he thought of it, now, the risk he had been running
all these months gave him a little sinking of the heart.
Upon reflection, the performance of having sold the same
property first to Tavender in Mexico and then to the
Rubber Consols Company in London might be subject to
injurious comment, or worse. The fact that it was not a
real property to begin with had no place in his thoughts.
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