“Oh,” said she, very grave, “I hadn't realized that.”
“If we can just keep our heads—-more carefully—spend the money where it will really show on the film—don't you see, we can swing it, and when we've done it, it won't belong to the Interstellar people—or to Silverstone; it'll be ours. And that means it'll be what we—you—want it to be and not something vulgar and—and nasty. The other way, it we give Zanin his head and begin spending money magnificently, we'll run out, and then the price of a little more money, if we can get it at all, will be, the control.”
Re reached down for the books, threw them back into the drawer, slammed it and locked it.
“Yes,” he said, “that's all I've got. I pledge it all, here and now, to the dream you've dreamed. All I ask is, keep in mind what may happen when it's gone.”
She rose now; stood thinking; then drew on her lam o'shanter and reached for her coat.
“Let me think this over,” she said soberly.
“We must be businesslike,” said he. “Impersonal.”
“Yes,” said she, and stepped over to the fire, low-burning now with a mass of red coals.
Peter's eyes, deep, gloomy behind the big glasses, followed her. He came slowly and stood by her.
“I must go,” she said gently. “It'll he eleven first thing we known It would be a bit too amusing to be put out.”