"Of course, I excuse you," she replied readily. "I know that something very important is calling you. And in any case, what right would I have to say yes or no to a private decision of your own?"
There leapt in her a sudden hope that he would answer from the heart. But his reply held nothing beyond a bare statement. "This matter is extremely urgent. I propose to catch a night train to Paris and be back by to-morrow evening. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"
"I have everything ... but my sight."
"And that, Dr Hegelmann will give you within the month!" he affirmed.
In Paris early the next morning, Rivière sought out the financial editor of the Europe Chronicle. At a face-to-face interview, Rivière's personality impressed, and the newspaper man showed himself quite willing to prove the bona fides of his journal.
"If you will step into the adjoining room," he said, "I'll send you the reporter who brought us the information. Ask him any questions you like. I've perfect confidence in him, and I stand by any statement of his we print. I don't think people realize how careful we are on financial matters—they seem to think that a popular paper will print any sort of canard offhand."
There followed Rivière into the next room a tubby rosy-faced little man, brisk and smiling. "Well, sir, what can I do for you?" he rattled off cheerfully. "The financial editor tells me that I'm to preach to you the gospel of the infallibility of the Chronicle. What's the particular text you're heaving bricks at?"
Jimmy Martin's infectious good-humour brought an answering smile from Rivière. "I'm not casting doubts on the modern-day Bible," he replied. "I'm seeking information. I want to know who told you that Clifford Matheson, my half-brother, is to head the Board of Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd."
"I have it straight from the stable—from Lars Larssen."
Rivière's face did not move a muscle—he was still smiling pleasantly.