“Yes,” he said.... “No”.... “Mr. Terrard?”... “My name is Trefusis.”... “Very well, I will see you first if you will. My arrangements are almost complete.”... “No, Mr. Terrard, I’m afraid it must be now. To-morrow will be too late.”... “Very well, Mr. Terrard,” and he put the receiver up again.
Of the two alone in that room Cassleton was the one who suffered the feeling of defeat. Through the brain of Trefusis was running the rapid chain of a new scheme for changing front ... at all costs a combine, new capital, the public would take the racket; bound to.... Did he stand to lose? to get less than what he had made sure of, even that morning?... Possibly. One must take the rough with the smooth.... There might have to be heavy sacrifice.... He would see.... But at any rate B.A.R.’s would be saved and the bulk of what he had securely grasped after that long effort of building up British Amalgamated would remain in his hands.
“Cassleton,” he said after a pause, “where would you like to be when Terrard comes?”
“You don’t want me to hear?” said Cassleton.
“On the contrary,” said Trefusis, “I do want you to hear.”
The eyes of the younger man wandered about the corners of the room. He smiled oddly at the cupboard which had played so famous a rôle in the Burton transaction, then he shook his head.
“No, my dear fellow,” he said, with an odd and new familiarity towards such a master, “there are limits. Besides which, I hate stuffy cupboards.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you should hide and eavesdrop,” said Trefusis angrily.
“I am glad of that,” answered Cassleton. “One never knows! Witnesses are useful.”
Trefusis nearly found himself saying “Take care,” but he caught back the words in time.