“And what do you make out of it?” he asked.
“A couple of hundred thousand, I hope.”
“Oh!” A profit on this scale again rather startled the old man. No, he was nothing; he never had been anything in this world!
“How do you know that you will make so much?”
“I’ve calculated it all out.”
“But if—but how can you be sure of it? Suppose you’ve got your figures wrong?” His head was thrust forward again into the full light.
“I’m in the habit of getting my figures right,” said Peer.
When he broached the question of security, the old man was in the act of moving away from him across the room. But he stopped short, and looked back over his shoulder.
“What? Security? You want me to stand security for two million crowns?”
“No; the Company asks for a guarantee for four hundred thousand.”