Bernini went down to the basement, obfuscated; for he knew the visitor. He was one of the greatest bankers in New York—that is to say, in America! Asking questions about Stefani Gregor!
CHAPTER XVI
About nine o'clock that same night a certain rich man, having established himself comfortably under the reading lamp, a fine book in his hands and a fine after-dinner cigar between his teeth, was exceedingly resentful when his butler knocked, entered, and presented a card.
“My orders were that I was not at home to any one.”
“Yes, sir. But he said you would see him because he came to see you regarding a Mr. Gregory.”
“What?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Damn these newspapers!... Wait, wait!” the banker called, for the butler was starting for the door to carry the anathema to the appointed head. “Bring him in. He's a big bug, and I can't afford to affront him.”
“Yes, sir”—with the colourless tone of a perfect servant.