"Emanated," his friend suggested.
"It has been emanated, then—that there was a thing or two wanted puttin' to rights."
"We'll make notes as we go along."
"But I don't want you to start by lookin' out our little weaknesses!" cried Cai, suddenly fearful for his beloved town.
Nevertheless he was in the seventh heaven, divining that his friend (so chary of speech as a rule) had been trying to make amends, to sweep away the little cloud that for a moment—no more—had crossed their perfect understanding. 'Bias was here, determined to like Troy: and 'Bias was succeeding. What else mattered?
"Tidy little trade here," commented 'Bias, as they reached the Passage Slip and conned the business reach of the river, the vessels alongside the jetties, the cranes at work, the shipping moored off at the buoys— vessels of all nations, but mostly Danes and Russians, awaiting their turn.
"Twenty thousand tons a-month, my boy! See that two-funnelled craft 'longside the second jetty? Six thousand—not a fraction under. We're things o' the past, you an' me, an' 'twas high time we hauled out o' the competition."
"China clay?"
"All of it."
"I don't know much about china clay," said 'Bias reflectively. "But I never met twenty thousand tons of anything where it wasn' time for somebody to protect the public."