The task had been tiresome in the extreme--
but it had been very well worth while.
"One thing I'm rather sorry about," Tavender remarked,
in apologetic parenthesis--"I ought to have gone down
and seen that brother-in-law of mine in Kent. He's been
very good to me, and I'm not treating him very well.
I wrote to tell him I was coming--but since then I haven't
had a minute to myself. However, I can write to him
and explain how it happened. And probably I'll be over
again sometime."
"Why, of course," said Thorpe, absently. The allusion
to the brother-in-law in Kent had escaped his notice,
so intent was he upon a new congeries of projects taking
vague shape in his mind.
"Think of yourself as my man out there," he said now,
slowly, following the clue of his thoughts. "There may
be big things to do. Write to me as often as you can.
Tell me everything that's going on. Money will be no object
to me--you can have as much as you like--if things turn
up out there that are worth taking up. But mind you say
nothing about me--or any connection you've ever had with me.
You'll get a letter from the Secretary of a Company and
the Chairman asking for a report on a certain property,
and naming a fee. You simply make a good report--on
its merits. You say nothing about anything else--about me,
or the history of the concession, or its validity,
or anything.
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