For the first time in his life Holm felt himself master of the situation towards Hermansen; this time it was the banker himself who had to show his balance.
"Well, Mr. Holm, I dare say you have heard...."
But Holm ignored the opening. "No, no, my friend," he thought to himself, "you can play your miserable hand alone, I'm not going to help you out."
"I have committed the indiscretion of—er—becoming engaged," said the banker, with a faint smile.
"Hearty congratulations, my dear Banker," said Holm, offering his hand.
There was a pause, the banker evidently waiting for Holm, with his customary fluency, to break the ice. Here, however, he was disappointed; Holm merely set his teeth and fell to polishing his silk hat on one sleeve. The banker tried again.
"Mrs. Rantzau, my fiancée, has informed me that we shall be—er—in a sort of way related." He smiled invitingly, and thought: he must come round after that.
Holm was a little in doubt how best to proceed now; he was not averse to prolonging the other's awkwardness.
"Highly honoured, I'm sure. Yes, my son has been so fortunate as to gain the hand of—er—your fiancée's daughter. A charming young lady, charming. Takes after her mother." He checked himself; he had said more than he wished.
A long pause.