“I am happy to meet you, Lord Stranleigh, and if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to say that you are more greatly in need of advice at this moment than any man in America.”
“You are perfectly right, Mr. Boscombe. I am always in need of good advice, and I appreciate it.”
“An application was made to me from New York for a block of stock. That stock is not for sale, but I dallied with the brokers, made investigations, and traced the inquiry to you.”
“Very clever of you, Mr. Boscombe.”
“I learn that you propose to finance Miss Constance Maturin, who is a junior partner in my business.”
“I should not think of contradicting so shrewd a man as yourself, Mr. Boscombe. What do you advise in the premises?”
“I advise you to get out, and quick, too.”
“If I don’t, what are you going to do to me?”
“Oh, I shall do nothing. She will do all that is necessary. That woman is stark mad, Lord Stranleigh. Her own father recognised it when he bereft her of all power in the great business he founded. If she had her way, she’d ruin the company inside a year with her hare-brained schemes; love of the dear people, and that sort of guff.”