"The sooner the better—for Freddie," said Marsh, with a shake of his head. "The trouble with Fred is he thinks he's a cold thinking machine, and he's putty in the hands of any woman who comes along."
"I'm worried about a certain person myself," said Bojo.
But at this moment Thornton, one of Mr. Drake's secretaries, touched him on the arm.
"Will you please come to the library, Mr. Crocker? Mr. Drake has been asking for you to witness some papers."
In the library off in a quiet wing he found a party of five gathered about the table desk, lawyers verifying the securities for the marriage settlement, Maître Vondin, a stubby, black-bearded Frenchman imported for the occasion, coldly incredulous and suavely insistent, the storm center of an excited group who had been arguing since dinner. Drake, by the fireplace, was pacing up and down, swearing audibly.
"Is the gentleman now quite satisfied?" he said angrily.
Maître Vondrin smiled in the affirmative.
Drake sat down at the table with the gesture of brushing away a swarm of flies and signed his name to a document that was placed before him, nodding to Bojo to add his signature as a witness.
"Pity some of our corporations couldn't employ Vondrin," said Drake, rising angrily. "There wouldn't be enough money left to keep a savings bank."
Other signatures were attached and the party broke up, Maître Vondrin, punctilious and unruffled, bowing to the master of the house and departing with the rest.