"Nothing. Thank you, Mr. Shayne."
"I'm going to give you my card. In New York—my name is not without meaning."
"It is very familiar to me. Was before I met your son."
"If you ever come to the city—I mean, when you come—you must look us up. Anything we can do—in the way of jobs, positions—" He was confused.
Hugo shook his head. "That's very kind of you, sir. But I have some means of my own and, right now, I'm not even thinking of going back to New York."
Mr. Shayne stepped into the car. "I would like to do something." Hugo realized the sincerity of that desire. He reflected.
"Nothing I can think of—"
"I'm a banker. Perhaps—if I might take the liberty—I could handle your affairs?"
Hugo smiled. "My affairs consist of one bank account in the City Loan that would seem very small to you, Mr. Shayne."
"Why, that's one of my banks. I'll arrange it. You know and I know how small the matter of money is. But I'd appreciate your turning over some of your capital to me. I would consider it a blessed opportunity to return a service, a great service with a small one, I'm afraid."