Duveen laughed. "So I remarked! You reckoned the Occidental stoop was pretty public and your talking to me might imply that you wanted my support? Well, I'll risk that. It's obvious you're on the short list. Do you want a post?"
For a moment or two Lister pondered. He did want a post; anyhow, he ought to try for it. On the whole he liked Duveen, and thought he might have liked Ruth better had she not been rich. All the same, Duveen was a shrewd manipulator of new industries and to take a post by his favor would be to own a debt, for which payment might be demanded. Yet Duveen had been kind and Lister hesitated.
"I asked for a post," he said. "If I'm engaged, I'll try to make good; but I must make good at the dam or on the ditch. Then I don't want to bother my friends. The company has my engineering record and must judge my usefulness by this. If they're not satisfied, I won't grumble much."
"You're an independent fellow, but I think I understand," Duveen rejoined with a twinkle. "A company director's duty is to judge an applicant for a post by his professional record. If you are appointed, you want us to appoint you because we believe you are the proper man?"
"Something like that," said Lister quietly.
Duveen nodded, and his glance rested for a moment on Lister's forehead.
"I see the mark you got on board the train hasn't altogether gone. Did you hear anything about the girl you helped?"
"I did not," said Lister, starting, for he had not imagined Duveen knew about the girl. "I have not seen her since she went off on the locomotive."
"Then she has not written to you since?"
"She could not write, because she doesn't know who I am, and I don't know her. We talked for a minute or two, that's all."