“I remember,” said Zeus. “He was not to draw any regular salary.”
“Precisely so,” replied the Agent. “He just took his small commission on every broken heart. Well, up to the present I’ve had no complaint to make of him. He did his work well and cheerfully. The Suicide Section used to send me in most favourable reports of him. I had even intended to recommend him for promotion.”
“But without increase of salary, I hope,” said Zeus. “The shareholders would never stand that, you know.”
“They simply wouldn’t tolerate it for a minute,” echoed Co. It was not supposed to be generally known that Zeus & Co. were the only shareholders.
“No, sir,” answered the Agent. “I should have left the question of salary to you. I hope I know my place, sir. But, if you will believe it, that boy actually wants to resign the post he holds already. He got mixed up in that Psyche business a good deal, you know. I never knew the rights of the case exactly; but I do know that he’s not been the same boy since, and takes no pleasure in his work at all.”
“Well, show him in,” said Zeus irritably, “and I’ll have a word or two to say to him.”
“I wonder,” suggested Co., “if the Agent can have been fool enough to let the boy know that he was a punishment and not a blessing?”
At this moment the Agent, who had retired, reappeared with Eros. He was a handsome boy, but it was evident that he was very angry. His eyes flashed, and tears stood in them. He made no obeisance to Zeus, but with a rapid movement unslung his bow and quiver from his shoulders, and snapt bow and arrows, one after another, across his knee, flinging them down on the floor of the hall.
“I’ve had enough of that,” he said shortly, setting his lips tight.
“Are you aware,” said Co. solemnly, “that what you have just broken is the property of the shareholders?”