"Well, as luck would have it, that set him laughing, and he shuts up the big book and tucks away the pencil in his waistcoat pocket. And he thanks me most politely for the information.
"'You're very welcome, I'm sure,' says I. 'Ah—dec—oh—oh—shung—la—la—poh!'
"But if we ever get another of that learned sort along, why, I'm going to tell them Paal Abrahamsen's dead and gone, poor lad, and can't talk Chinese any more. I never was much good at these examinations."
VII
HOLM & SON
There was a marked change in the office now. Every day, when Holm came in, he would find William seated at his desk, opposite Miss Betty. Early and late, William was always there, working away to all appearance like a steam engine. This in itself was excellent, of course, but, on the other hand, it destroyed all chance of a comfortable chat with Betty tête-à-tête. And every day Holm felt more and more convinced that Betty and he were made for one another. Or at least that Betty was made for him.
"You must get the hang of the outside business too, my son," he observed one day. "Down at the waterside, for instance, there's a lot needs looking after there."
"Yes, father," said William respectfully, "but I want to get thoroughly into the bookkeeping first, and Miss Rantzau is helping me."
There was nothing to be said to this, of course, but it was annoying, to say the least. And Holm senior, thinking matters over in his leisure hours, would say to himself: