“I beg to second the last honourable speaker,” he said. “The more so as I have things to say which do not come well from the Chair.”
Peter’s voice sounded like that of a ventriloquist:
“Is the meeting agreed on this?”
“Yes,” said Levy in a loud voice. Then he left his place and demonstratively went and sat down beside Laura on the sofa, where he took up a foreign newspaper and began to study the quotations.
So Stellan was chairman. He seemed to take up the hammer without any enthusiasm and now and then cast embarrassed side-glances at his predecessor. They then proceeded to the adjustment of votes. When they came to Tord Selamb, one hundred shares, absent, Levy pricked up his ears:
“Mr. Chairman,” he said, in an indifferent tone, “this is now the third year that Mr. Tord Selamb neither appears in person nor sends a proxy. Is that not strange?”
Stellan looked inquiringly at Peter:
“I suppose the meeting has been properly convened? He has been called?”
Peter searched his papers:
“Tord does not care a damn for old Selambshof,” he muttered in a reproachful tone. “He does not care a damn for anything....”