“When I first consented to join you in this show,” he began, “you were worth, at an outside estimate, two thousand pounds. For six years, you’ve been drawing £700 a year.”
“Dat,” said Turkovitch, slightly mollified already, “vos for my vork, for my experience.”
“Quite right. I wasn’t asking you to give it me back, was I? Then there’s six years’ compound interest at, say, five per cent. Call it two thousand eight hundred. I’ll give you”—Peter hesitated for a moment, went up two hundred in his mind—“Three thousand pounds for your shares in Nirvana. The lot, of course.”
And so—after about a fortnight of negotiation—they got rid of the obstructionist. He went, in the end, quietly; delighted with his cheque; saying: “Now, I and my wife, ve take a little trip to Salonica. Perhaps, ven I come back, ve do some business in de leaf-tobacco, eh, Petere?”
“Right you are,” said our Mr. Jameson, who had no patience with fools but never bore malice.
PART THREE
THE CREST OF THE WAVE
§ 1
“Limousine-Landaulette body would be best,” said Peter. “We want something that will do either for town work or touring.”
“How about a cabriolet?” asked Patricia.