A few days later she stood again at the telephone, ringing up Levy. Now it was a question of some timber shares that she had bought on his advice and that had gone down a few crowns.
On the fifteenth of June Selambs Ltd. had its annual meeting. That was the last permitted day according to the articles of association. Peter could never make himself pay any dividend a single day before he must.
The meeting was, as usual, held in the office at Selambshof. Hedvig came early so that the others should not be able to meet and talk about her. For weeks she had worried over this meeting, at which Levy would again meet her sister and brothers. A few years ago—on Laura’s and Stellan’s recommendation—he had been allowed to buy a few shares, and had been elected to the board, chiefly in order to keep an eye on the managing director.
Peter was extremely obliging. He stalked about arranging shares and distributing writing blocks and pencils. He always looked frightened nowadays at these meetings, and today more so than usual.
Levy came late, in a hurry, with his coat buttoned, as impersonal as a chapter of a law book. He bowed stiffly and sat down at once in his usual place; the chairman’s place at the writing desk.
“Well,” said Peter, “shall we elect a chairman for the annual meeting. Is anybody proposed?”
Laura played with the chain of her little gilt handbag. She was dressed in black and white stripes and had a very tight skirt. It was in that year that skirts began to be worn tight. She still had her golden hair and her smooth skin. And all the same you could clearly see that she had aged. Her voice sounded cold, the playful purring had gone.
“I beg to propose Stellan,” she said.
Hedvig was huddled up in her corner, staring at Levy. “Now he will look at me, now he thinks I shall say something,” she thought and grew cold all over her body. But Levy did not. Perhaps he grew a shade paler, but he looked at Laura with an amused little smile. Then he calmly put away his papers.