That was a condition that the astounded Manne agreed to with all his heart.
“No, because I think I know of a better buyer, if you really can’t keep the estate. That’s agreed then. You take your ride and confess to ‘the Glove’ and I will go and hunt for the money. We meet outside the bank at half past nine. Good-bye!”
Stellan called a cab and drove straight to Selambshof.
Peter the Boss was of course impossible at Laura’s parties. But there was all the same a secret channel of communication between her drawing room and Selambshof. Peter, too, had his interests in society.
Stellan opened a window, climbed in and sat down on the edge of his brother’s bed. He looked like a fat hog when he was asleep. On the night table lay an old silver watch, a cash book and a half-finished cigar. Peter jumped up and rubbed his eyes:
“What the devil is the matter?”
“Business. Kolsnäs is ripe. What will you give me if I get it for you for five hundred thousand?”
Peter was not quite awake yet, but he could always manage to appear indifferent at first.
“Damn Kolsnäs,” he rattled, lighting the half-smoked cigar.
Stellan opened both windows. He also looked supercilious and indifferent. From his manner you would have thought he was the master, rolling in money, and Peter the servant.