This, obviously, was something which might be of importance. Wariness and concentration were in every feature of Basil Zaharoff. He knew how to watch and think, and let the other person betray himself. But Lanny had said his say, and continued to hold the letter.
So finally the munitions king took it; but he did not look at it. “May I ask your name, young man?”
“My name is banning Prescott Budd.”
“Of Budd Gunmakers Corporation?”
“That is my family, sir.”
“Your father is Robert Budd, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
Another silence; Lanny had the feeling that everything that had ever been in his soul was being read and judged. He felt sure that the prominent hooked nose was smelling him. “Have a seat, please,” said the old man, at last.
Lanny seated himself on the front half of a chair, and the Greek sat near. He examined the letter, then opened it slowly. A smile relieved the concentration on his face, and he handed the document to the boy, saying: “Oblige me, please.”
Lanny thought it was his duty to read it. It said, in French: