"The Pluto Oil shares," he murmured. "Well?"
"Of course, father hadn't the least right to buy them," she went on, "because we haven't a penny in the world, and he couldn't possibly pay for them unless they fetched as much, when the payment fell due, as he gave for them. I am rather stupid at these things, Mr. Thain, but you understand?"
"Perfectly!"
Her long fingers stole into the cigarette box. She accepted a light from him and leaned back once more in her chair.
"Father," she proceeded, "has the most implicit faith in everybody. The fact that you are an American millionaire was ample proof to him that anything in the way of shares you possessed must be worth a great deal more than their face value. I do not know what led to his buying them—you probably do. Did he asked for any assurances as to their intrinsic value?"
"I warned him," David said, "that they were entirely a speculation. He asked my advice as to some way of raising a large sum of money, much larger than he could hope to gain by any ordinary enterprise. I presumed that he was willing to speculate and I suggested these shares. They certainly are as speculative as any man could desire."
"Are they worth any more now than when father bought them?" she enquired.
"To the best of my belief they have not moved," he replied. "As a matter of fact, they have not yet had a chance to prove themselves."
"They are still worth a dollar a share, then?"
"They are worth a dollar a share as much as they were when your father bought them."