He laughed gaily, but suddenly it occurred to him that his laugh sounded hollow and foolish, and he stopped.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Mr. Gaunt gravely.
‘I mean,’ said Simon Lock lamely, ‘that the price is, of course, a fancy one. You know the market is a bit tight, and you’re playing a game. You’ll take less than thirty-five if you really want to sell.’
‘Our firm is not in the habit of playing games, Mr. Lock. And, by the way, your last words bring us to the point. You say “if we really want to sell.” The fact is, we don’t want to sell. You will remember that it was you who came first to us to ask if we had any shares to offer. We made inquiries, and found some. Our clients——’
‘Would you mind telling me,’ Simon Lock interrupted, ‘who your clients are?’
‘It would be useless for you to approach them personally,’ said Mr. Gaunt.
‘I don’t want to approach them personally. I shall not dream of such a breach of etiquette,’ said Simon Lock, with an assumed fervour of righteousness. ‘I merely wanted to know, out of curiosity.’
‘I regret that I cannot satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Lock.’
‘Then that is your last word, Mr. Gaunt—ten thousand at thirty-five?’
A boy entered with a telegram, which Mr. Gaunt perused slowly through his gold-rimmed spectacles.