“But your own opinion?” said Ascher, still mildly insistent.
“Well,” I said, “I’ve been robbed of my property—land in Ireland, Mr. Stutz—by Gorman and his friends. Everybody says that they were quite right and that I ought not to have objected; so, I suppose, robbery must be a proper thing according to our contemporary ethics.”
“And that is your opinion of the scheme?” said Ascher.
“Yes,” I said. “I hope I’ve made myself clear. I think we are justified in pillaging when we can.”
“You Irish,” said Ascher, “with your intellects of steel, your delight in paradox and your reckless logic!”
Stutz was not interested in the peculiarities of the Irish mind. He went back to the main point with a directness which I admired.
“This is not,” he said, “the kind of business we care to do.”
“Mr. Gorman,” said Ascher, “we shall wait for Mr. Mildmay’s report on your brother’s invention. If it turns out to be favourable, as I confidently expect, we may have a proposal to lay before you. Our firm cannot, you will understand, take shares in your company. That is not a bank’s business. But I myself, in my private capacity, will consider the matter. So will Mr. Stutz. It may be possible to arrange that your brother’s machine shall be put on the market.”
“But your proposal,” said Stutz obstinately. “It is not the kind of business we undertake.”
The interview was plainly at an end. We rose and left the room.