“The deuce you are!” Simeon exclaimed. “And what do you call a very large block?”
“Well,” said Cecil, “it would cost me nearly half a million to take them up now.”
“Dollars?”
“Pounds sterling. Twenty-five thousand shares, at 95⅜.”
Rainshore whistled two bars of “Follow me!” from “The Belle of New York.”
“Is this how you amuse yourself at Ostend?” he inquired.
Cecil smiled: “This is quite an exceptional transaction. And not too profitable, either.”
“But you can’t dump that lot on the market,” Simeon protested.
“Yes, I can,” said Cecil. “I must, and I will. There are reasons. You yourself wouldn’t care to handle it, I suppose?”
The president of the Trust pondered.