"What is it?" said Pateley.
Sir William felt his courage failing him in the desperate game he had begun to play. It was no good pausing now. He stood facing Pateley, holding a folded paper in his hand, no longer hidden by the newspaper which had slid from his grasp on to the ground. He looked at the paper in his hand mechanically. Mechanically Pateley's eye followed his. The conviction suddenly came to him that Gore was not speaking at random.
"Sir William," he said, "time presses," and unconsciously they both looked towards the window into the street. At any moment Rendel might draw up again. "If you have any reason for what you are saying, tell me—if not, I must leave you to see what can be done."
"I have a reason," said Sir William, "the strongest, for believing that there will be peace."
Pateley looked at him. "Give me a proof?" he said, with the accent of a man who is wasting no words, no intentions.
Sir William's hand tightened over the paper. "If I gave you a proof," he said, "would you swear not to take any proceedings against the 'Equator' Company?"
"If you gave me a proof, yes—I would swear," said Pateley.
"And you will keep the things out of the papers," Sir William went on hurriedly, "till I have had time to see my way?"
"Yes," said Pateley again.