Babcock flushed. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, if your time's worth anything to you you're losing money here.”
“Then you are not interested———”
“Not a bit.”
The junior partner of Bigelow & Company, still flushing, rose. “I've made you a square offer———”
“And I've refused it.”
Babcock stood looking down at Halloran. His eyes were growing smaller; his fingers were restless. For a moment he seemed not to grasp the fact that he had failed. Halloran picked up a letter, then lowered it, and looked up inquiringly.
“Now suppose we leave it this way for the present, Mr. Halloran.” He was rallying. “You'd better just think over what I've said. The main thing is to pave the way toward an agreement, and I think we've done that. I'm glad to have had this talk with you. Don't hurry about deciding. Weigh it carefully. Good-by—glad to have seen you.”
Halloran gave him a nod and he was gone.
It was to be a day rather more than usually eventful. Before he left the office, in the afternoon, Crosman drew him aside.