The committee-room was a long, low annexe to the main body of the building, with the usual green-baize covered table placed lengthways down the middle of the room, mahogany chairs at regular intervals round it, an armchair at the head for the chairman, and on the table the usual disposition of clean blotting-paper, pencils, note-books, and a carafe of water covered with an inverted glass.
A clock ticked on the chimneypiece.
Young Cooper was the sole occupant of the room, and observed brightly, "No one has arrived yet, sir, but I see the clock gives it as two minutes to the half-hour."
"Got an agenda there, Cooper?" said Mark, and proceeded to study the typewritten slip of paper.
Sir Julian went to the chair at the head of the table.
He also looked idly at the agenda, listening the while with the rather revolted fascination with which young Cooper's peculiar style of sub-audible self-communion always inspired him.
"I must move my chair or pull down the blind—sun coming right in through the window. If I lift it—so—that oughtn't to interfere with anyone else. Just caught the edge of the carpet, though—that won't do ... put the chair-leg down on it, and then we're all right."
"Now, Sir Julian, it's just striking the half-hour."
"I hear it."
"So do I," agreed Cooper agreeably, as the clock on the chimneypiece chimed loudly. "I'm just going to the window, to see if Mr. Bellew's car is in sight."