A deafening uproar followed. People blindly believed anything. Prices fell. Somebody bought. Blind confidence returned.
“I buy....”
Unconfirmed news of disaster came again. The whole ’Change became a whirlpool, as if it had been stirred round. Nobody knew what was happening. Telegram forms flew over the place. Fists beat wildly on the air.... Everything was upside down.
A man with sweaty face flew like an arrow into the crowd.
“There is a Black Saturday in Vienna! News has just arrived. There is a slump all over Europe.” Quotations fell head over heel.
A big broker tried to stem the tide. It swept him away. It was all over.... In a few seconds people, families, institutions, were ruined. Lost were the easily-won fortunes of the day before, never seen by those who owned them. Lost were the old fortunes amassed by the hard work of several generations....
Christopher leaned his snow-white face against the wall. Near him, the seedy-looking man continued mechanically to suck the ring of his purse. He could not take his eyes off him. He stared at him while he was ruined.
The brokers came panting. No, it was now impossible to sell anything. What stood for money an hour ago had become a valueless scrap of paper.
The porter of the Stock Exchange rang the bell. The death-knell.
Christopher could only mumble. Nobody listened to him, his own agents left him there. Only the weird man looked at him with funny, bloodshot eyes.