"I shall risk two thousand, any way."
"Paper delivered, governor?" Dayson asked in a low voice, leering pawkily, as though to indicate that he was a man who could be trusted to think of everything.
"Will be to-morrow, I think," said Mr. Cannon. "Got that letter ready, Miss Lessways?"
Hilda sprang into life.
"Yes," she said, handing it diffidently. "But if you'd like me to do it again--you see it's--"
"Plethora of H2O," Dayson put in, indulgent.
"Oh no!" Mr. Cannon decided. Having read the letter, he gave it to Dayson. "It doesn't matter, but you ought to have signed it before it was copied in the letter-book."
"Gemini! Miss!" murmured Dayson, glancing at Hilda with uplifted brows.
The fact was that both of them had forgotten this formality. Dayson took a pen, and after describing a few flourishes in the air, about a quarter of an inch above the level of the paper, he magnificently signed: "Dayson & Co." Such was the title of the proprietorship. Just as Karkeek was Mr. Cannon's dummy in the law, so was Dayson in the newspaper business. But whereas Karkeek was privately ashamed, Dayson was proud of his rôle, which gave him the illusion of power and glory.
"Just take this down, will you?" said Mr. Cannon.