"So you want to buy it, eh?" To conceal his amazement, he walked to the window. "Why don't you throw your money out here?" he asked. "You can lose it that way with less trouble."
Judith had no answering smile. Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a little straighter line.
"Will you draw up the papers for me, John? I've phoned Mr. Good, and he will be here any minute."
"Mr. Good, eh? You have a good deal of faith in him, haven't you? So he's the nigger in the pile, is he?"
"Have you any reason not to have faith in him?" Baker was silent, and a curious expression, which she could not fathom, formed on his face.
"No," he murmured finally, with what seemed like an effort, "I have not."
"Personally I have the utmost confidence in him," said Judith with a shortness which brooked no further discussion of the topic. Baker looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. Then he pressed a button on his desk.
"It's your funeral, Judith. I never thought you were a fool...."
"Before?" she interrupted, with her first smile.
It was significant that he made no reply.