"You'll never get as much as that—or half of it," declared Weekes. "What are you going to show 'em for the money?"
"That's the point. I propose——"
Mr. Taverner, who had been whispering with Mr. Pearn, interrupted.
"Excuse me if I'm not in order; but I beg to say that talking's dry work, and I should like for to ask if we may send round to the 'Castle' for a quart or two?"
The chairman looked round him.
"Agreed," said Mr. Prout. "I second that."
"I've no objection in the world," declared Mr. Churchward.
"I should have suggested it myself," remarked Noah Pearn; "but for obvious reasons, gentlemen, I couldn't."
They applauded his delicate feeling, and Adam spoke to Nathaniel Spry.
"If you walk across to the inn, Nat, you'll find my son in the bar for certain," he said. "Just tell him to fetch over two quarts of mild, and write it down to me; and put on your overcoat afore you go, for the night is sharp."