He broke off with a laugh, and looked round him. There was a ring in his voice suggestive of a keen excitement. Could Percy Roden, after all, be an enthusiast? Cornish glanced at him uneasily. In Cornish's world sincere enthusiasm was so rare that it was never well received.
Roden's manner changed again, however, and he explained the plan of the little village with his usual half-indifferent air.
“These two buildings are the factories,” he said. “In them three hundred men can work at once. There we shall build sheds for the storage of the raw material. Here we shall erect a warehouse. But I do not anticipate that we shall ever have much malgamite on our hands. We shall turn over our money very quickly.”
Cornish listened with the respectful attention which business details receive nowadays from those whose birth and education unfit them for such pursuits. It was obvious that he did not fully understand the terms of which Roden made use; but he tapped his smart boot with his cane, gave a quick nod of the head, and looked intelligently around him. He had a certain respect for Percy Roden, while that philanthropist did not perhaps appear quite at his best in his business moments.
“And do you—and that foreign individual, Mr. Von Holzen—live inside this—zareba?” he asked.
“No; Von Holzen lives as yet in Scheveningen, in a hotel there. And I have taken a small villa on the dunes, with my sister to keep house for me.”
“Ah! I did not know you had a sister,” said Cornish, still looking about him with intelligent ignorance. “Does she take an interest in the malgamite scheme?”
“Only so far as it affects me,” replied Roden. “She is a good sister to me. The house is between the waterworks and the steam-tram station. We will call in on our way back, if you care to.”
“I should like nothing better,” replied Cornish, conventionally, and they continued their inspection of the little colony. The arrangements were as simple as they were effective. Either Roden or Von Holzen certainly possessed the genius of organization. In one of the cottages a cold collation was set out on two long tables. There was a choice of wines, and notably some bottles of champagne on a side table.
“For the journalists,” explained Roden. “I have a number of them coming this afternoon to witness the arrival of the first batch of malgamite makers. There is nothing like judicious advertisement. We have invited a number of newspaper correspondents. We give them champagne and pay their expenses. If you will be a little friendly, they would like it immensely. They, of course, know who you are. A little flattery, you understand.”