The director came to the letter’s end. He lowered his head like a bull preparing to charge and his dull eyes looked suspiciously over his spectacles at Christopher.
“I have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Ulwing? Yes ... of course, of course, I know the firm. A connection dating from our youth.... Once I happened to have the good fortune of meeting a certain old Mr. Christopher Ulwing. Any relation of yours? A powerful man, a distinguished man.”
“My grandfather....”
The manager became at once very polite. He offered Christopher a seat.
“Can I be of any service to you?”
Christopher was startled by this question, though he had naturally expected it. He cast his eyes down, pale, suffering. He would have liked to defer the answer. Until it was given there was still one last hope. After that none might be left.
Owl-face moved the side-pieces of his gold-rimmed spectacles which made an impression on his fleshy temples.
“I am at your orders,” he said a little impatiently, looking at the clock on the wall.
Christopher made an effort.
“I want a loan.”