He took a sudden step forward and kicked the wastepaper-basket into the fireplace.
"I might even take up football some day, if this goes on," he smiled, and then abruptly recovered his solemnity.
"Beneficial and profitable," he repeated gravely. "Those are to be our watchwords. Will you have a weed?"
The junior partner started out of the reverie into which he had fallen.
"Are you going to start smoking here?" he cried.
"Why the deuce shouldn't I? It's my own office. These old-fashioned ideas of yours about not smoking on business premises are getting out of date. Besides, it keeps the flies away. And now I must get on to my correspondence."
With a cigar in the corner of his mouth and humming something resembling an air, the senior partner dashed into his day's work with the ardor of an egg-collector.