Rufus gave a start, and all the blood left his cheeks, and for several moments he stared at the fire in silence.
Muller rose from his chair, and began to brush his bowler hat with his hand.
"I'm frightfully sorry it's happened," he said, consolingly, "but, after all, it will soon be over."
"Ye—s."
"I advised you against it. I did not like the risk from the first."
"But you'll profit by the transaction?"
"My dear fellow, we're bound to make a little profit now and then or we should starve."
"Profit?" Rufus mused, as if to himself, "what shall it profit a man——"
"Perhaps you will advise me nearer the time?" Muller said, uneasily, and he moved towards the door.
"No. The papers will advise you."