“I’ll get him to stay, then.”
“But he won’t pay you at all unless he goes.”
That, again, was true—painfully true. No ... anyhow, Egholm would have nothing to do with any doubtful affairs. Not for any price. Better let Meilby go his own gait as soon as he pleased.
But even as he formed the thought, he seemed to feel the milled edges of the screws that set the camera between his fingers, and with a sigh he breathed the resolution from him once more.
One morning, a few days later, Egholm came back from his usual round.
“No luck, I suppose?”
“No, no, no,” he snarled, flinging off his hat. Then he took down the Bible.
What could have happened to make his hands shake like that?
A few minutes later came the explanation.