“My dear friend,” he said, “you are so violent. You are so abrupt. Now listen. I will give you five thousand for a quarter share. It is half my fortune.”
“Give me the concession,” Trent said. “I'm off.”
“For a fifth,” Da Souza cried.
Trent moved to the door without speech. Da Souza groaned.
“You will ruin me,” he said, “I know it. Come then, five thousand for a sixth share. It is throwing money away.”
“If you think so, you'd better not part,” Trent said, still lingering in the doorway. “Just as you say. I don't care.”
For a full minute Da Souza hesitated. He had an immense belief in the richness of the country set out in the concession; he knew probably more about it than Trent himself. But five thousand pounds was a great deal of money and there was always the chance that the Government might not back the concession holders in case of trouble. He hesitated so long that Trent was actually disappearing before he had made up his mind.
“Come back, Mr. Trent,” he called out. “I have decided. I accept. I join with you.”
Trent slowly returned. His manner showed no exultation.
“You have the money here?” he asked.