Outside, Tommy insisted upon looking up some of his other friends, but Rivington was against it.
“I tell you you'll have to see the old gentleman again. He always says no at first. I guess I ought to know.”
“Yes, but even so, I can't expect him to take the whole two thousand shares. That's two hundred thousand dollars, and I don't blame him—”
“Isn't it a good business?”
“Sure, fine.”
“Then why shouldn't he take it all? He is always saying it's getting harder every year to find good things to invest in. I tell you, you hold your horses. Even if he didn't take it all he could place the lot among our friends a blamed sight more easily than you. Old people have no use for the beardless Napoleon of Finance. Your trouble, Thomas, is that you are a boy. Listen to me.”
“You seem to think I've got all the time in the world—”
“Haste makes waste. Now I cherish a delusion that I can beat you—”
“No billiards,” interrupted Tommy.
“Coward! Well, escort me as far as the portals of the sacred edifice.”