Cornelius put on a pair of eyeglasses, and held out his hand for the envelope. His manner was nonchalant to the point of indifference.
Mr. Woodbridge withheld the packet and spoke with decision:
"I cannot allow you to look at the instructions until I have your word of honour that you will fulfil them."
"Isn't that asking a good deal, sir?"
"Perhaps so," said Mr. Woodbridge, "but no more than is asked of trusted messengers every day. I will assure you that the instructions are mine and represent my wishes."
"How long will it take?" inquired Cornelius, stooping to flick an imperceptible spot of dust from his trousers.
"I do not find it necessary to tell you." Something in his father's voice sent the languid Cornelius to an erect position and quickened his speech.
"Of course I will go," he said, but he did not speak with enthusiasm.
"Certainly, sir." The hesitation before the promise was momentary.