The doctor remarked that he had been thinking of Heth's, not five minutes before.
"I let Corinne go back to work this morning, you see--not that she's well again yet by a good deal, or that that's the place for her at any time. However.... You saw Mr. Heth himself?"
"Yair. I saw him--last time I'll fool with him, too! Says he guesses the law's good enough for him. Told me pointblank he wouldn't spend a cent till he had to. How's that for public spirit?"
Having halted by the secretary, the Commissioner looked down at his friend in the open manner of a speaker confident of sympathy.
"Trouble is," said the friend, frowning and sketching circles over some yesterday's memoranda, "Mr. Heth probably doesn't know anything about it himself. Got a lot of other interests, you see. He allows that blackguard MacQueen an absolute free hand at the Works--takes everything he says for gospel. He probably--"
"Don't you fool yourself, V.V.! Heth's too smart a man to turn over his principal business to anybody. And I'm sick and tried of jollying with him. Say, remember that letter you wrote in the 'Post' last fall?"
It appeared that V.V. did recall the thing, now that Sam mentioned it. He said introspectively:
"So you think he's still got a grudge about that?... Well, I'm sorry, but that letter was all true, Sam, absolutely true, in all particulars.... Why," said he, "what's the use of talking? You can't have omelettes without breaking eggs. You cannot."
"That's right. 'S what I came to talk about. Now, what do you say to another strong letter to-morrow, right in the same place. These--"
"Another letter!..."