“Morning!”
Mr. Felsburg returned the greeting with a sharp and businesslike brevity. He did not invite the caller to seat himself. In the small room there was but one chair—the one that held Mr. Felsburg's short form. So, during the early part of the scene that followed, Albritton continued to stand, while Mr. Felsburg enjoyed the advantage of being seated and at his ease where, without stirring, he might, from beneath his lowered brows, look the other up and down.
“I've just come from over at the Commonwealth Bank,” said Albritton, fumbling his hat. “I came in to see about getting an extension on my loans, and Mr. Kivil, over there, said I was to come on over here and talk to you first. He said you wanted to see me 'bout something—if I understood him right.”
Mr. Felsburg nodded in affirmation of this, but made no other reply. Albritton, having halted for a moment, went on again:
“I suppose you want to talk to me about my affairs, you being a director of the bank?”
“And also, furthermore, vice president,” supplemented Mr. Felsburg.
“Yes, suh. Just so. And that's what made me suppose—”
Mr. Felsburg raised a fat, short hand upon which the biggest, whitest diamond in Red Gravel County glittered.
“You should not talk with me as an officer of that bank—if you will be so good, please,” he stated. “You should talk with me now as an individual.”
“An individual? I'm afraid I don't understand you, suh.”