“I think I do, and, as a proof of it, I made for you twenty thousand dollars clear profit by the operation, besides buying your Consolidated Virginia. So if that last venture is a failure, I shall not feel I have swamped all your cash.”
“I should say not. You are the prince of brokers, Berty. You have not made a single mistake in managing my stock.”
“Yes I have. I sold your Crown Point too soon.”
“But that was my mistake, not yours.”
“Yes it was. I ought to have sold half to fool you, and kept the other half ten days longer to make a million with it. I was stupidly honest that time.”
“I forgive you.”
“But I don't forgive myself, nor you either.”
“I know that. You are only piling coals of fire on my head. Now I have to bear twenty thousand more fresh coals, and I forbearingly say: ‘Pile on Macduff,’ et cetera. Where shall we go to dinner—the Poodle Dog or California?”
“Let us go to the California House. John keeps the best.”
To the California House they went, and had a most excellent dinner with Chateau Yquem and a bottle of Roderer.