“Thank you. What time is it?”
“Six o'clock, sir.”
“Tell Mr. Farney to come and see me tomorrow at noon, about my speech for the general meeting.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good-night to you.”
“Good-night, Sir.”
At his tortoise gait he passed between the office stools to the door, opened it feebly, and slowly vanished.
Shutting the door behind him, a clerk said:
“Poor old chairman! He's on his last!”
Another answered: