“Ask ahead,” said Richards, with an encouraging recklessness.
“Tell me, Mr. Richards—what is the most difficult thing in the world?”
Mr. Robison was looking intently at the broker's face, as if he particularly desired to detect any change in expression. This intentness disconcerted Richards, who had at first intended to answer jocularly. He now said, distinctly apologetic:
“There are so many very difficult things!”
“Yes, there are—a great many indeed. But of all things, which is by far the most difficult?” His eyes held Richards's.
“I shall have to think a little before I can answer that question.”
“Take all the time you wish!” and Mr. Robison leaned back in his chair, his attitude somehow suggesting a Gibraltar-like ability to withstand a three years' siege.
It made Richards do much thinking very quickly: Here was a man who was not crazy; who had lying on the desk a hundred thousand dollars in cash to which he had not even casually referred; who probably intended to do business that would prove a source of profit to the firm of Richards & Tuttle. He might be a crank or a crook, but against either contingency the firm could and would protect itself. It was just as well to humor this man until he proved himself unworthy of humoring. The problem of the moment, therefore, became how to raise the siege politely.
“I suppose,” began Richards, trying to look philosophical, “that telling the truth always and every-, where is about as difficult a thing as—”
“It isn't a question,” interrupted Robison, with a polite regret, “of as difficult a thing as any, but of the most difficult of all!”