Of all worldly trials, waiting is the severest, and tatters the nerves quicker than any other. Isabel Irish did not like Nugent Cassis—he belonged to the money people who had no real existence in her reckoning—but ordinarily speaking she would never have lashed out at him with such vehemence. The fire in her voice and eyes entirely robbed the little man of power to retort. Nor was the tirade she uttered levelled at him alone, everyone present came in for a share. One small girl with a shock of curly hair whipping with scorpions the heads of a mighty financial concern.
"Hoping he'll get through with the cash," she said, "so that you can have money and more money and then more money. That's all he counts for to you—a machine to fill your pockets—— Doesn't matter if he gets broken throwing out the coins, wouldn't matter if he never came back at all so long as the concession came safely to hand. Oh! it makes me sick—it makes me sick." Her voice broke, but she forced the tears back by sheer strength of will. "He may be dead—anything may have happened to him—— And you could have prevented it all, sent an army to protect him. But no, that wouldn't do—too conspicuous—other people might find out—profits might have to be divided—so all you can do is to sit in a circle waiting—waiting—like a dog with a biscuit on its nose for the words 'Paid for, paid for.'"
And having emptied out her soul's measure of resentment she threw herself onto the sofa and sobbed and sobbed with her curly head in Mr. Torrington's lap.
No one spoke, not even when Doran came in and whispered that Van Diest and Hipps had arrived and demanded audience. It was Cranbourne who came forward and picking her up in his arms like an injured child carried her into the other room and laid her on Barraclough's bed.
"We haven't lost yet, my dear," he said, and stroked her forehead.
He left her crying gently on the pillow, her little pink cheeks all shiny with tears.
Mr. Torrington waited for Cranbourne to return before giving Doran instructions to show in the gentlemen. To Cassis' unspoken protest he replied:
"They evidently have some information which we lack. It would be wise to find out what it is."
Ezra P. Hipps was first to enter. He came in like a triumphant army occupying captured territory. Close upon his heels was Hugo Van Diest, smiling ingratiatingly and bowing to the company. Hilbert Torrington rose and returned the courtesy.
"An unexpected pleasure, gentlemen. And what precisely do you want?"