"If the stuff's no good," he said, "what do they want to put all those dollar-signs on the back for? Misleading people! And look at that seal. And all those signatures."
"I am sorry," said Hamilton Beamish. He moved to the window and leaned out, sniffing the summer air. "What a glorious day."
"No it isn't," said Mr. Waddington.
"Have you ever by any chance met Madame Eulalie, Mrs. Waddington's palmist?" asked Hamilton Beamish dreamily.
"Darn all palmists!" said Sigsbee H. Waddington. "What am I going to do about this stock?"
"I have already told you that there is nothing that you can do, short of stealing the necklace."
"There must be something. What would you do if you were me?"
"Run away to Europe."
"But I can't run away to Europe. I haven't any money."
"Then shoot yourself ... stand in front of a train ... anything, anything," said Hamilton Beamish impatiently. "And now I must really go. Good-bye."