Abel put both hands in his pockets, and both feet upon the ground, side by side, and rocked them upon the heels backward and forward, looking all the time at his father. His face grew cloudy—more cloudy every moment. At length he said,
“I think we’d better do it.”
His father did not speak or move. He seemed to have heard nothing, and to be only inwardly cursing the state of things revealed by the books and papers before him.
Abel looked at him for a moment, and then, raising his voice, continued:
“As one of the firm, I propose that we sell out the Bilbo and buy into the Canal.”
Not a look or movement from his father.
Abel jumped up—his eyes black, his face red. He took his hat and went to the door, saying,
“I shall go and conclude the arrangement!”
As he reached the door his father raised his eyes and looked at him. The eyes were full of contempt and anger, and a sneering sound came from his lips.
“You’ll do no such thing.”