"You was to see your broker, Mr. Anderson, in the morning over them steamship shares, sir."
"Shares, Joe, are a vanity; all is vanity—they weary me. Mr. Brimberly yawns, and you look sleepy—good night, Joe; pleasant dreams."
"Good night, sir!" and touching his right eyebrow, Joe went out, closing the door behind him.
"And now," said Mr. Ravenslee, puffing languidly at his cigar, "referring to the necessary object, there is a chance that it may be found—even yet, Mr. Brimberly!"
"Object, sir," murmured Mr. Brimberly, "found, sir—to be sure, sir."
"Yes; I intend you shall find it for me, Brimberly."
Mr. Brimberly's abstraction gave place to sudden amaze.
"Find it—wot, me, sir? Hexcuse me, sir, but did you say—" Mr. Brimberly actually gaped!
"You, Brimberly, of course!"
"But—but wot kind of a hobject—and where, sir?"