“There are one or two fellows, Sir Archibald,” he explained, “whom I should like to secure on my staff at once. I don’t want to lose even an hour.”
As he bade Madge Finisterre good-bye, he expressed the hope that he might see her again soon, and the girl in reply allowed her eyes unconsciously to express more than her words.
“She is the most charming woman I ever met,” he told himself, as he followed Sir Archibald into his room for the final word for which the baronet had asked. George Carlyon had remained behind with Madge.
“It was about the first working expenses I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Hammond,” the baronet began. They were seated in the baronet’s room.
“I will have fifty thousand pounds—or shall we say a hundred thousand?—deposited, at once, in your name at—what bank?”
“Any good bank you please, Sir Archibald, so long as the particular branch is fairly central.”
“Capital and Counties—how will that do?” the baronet asked, adding, “I always bank with them myself.”
“That will do, sir.”
“How about the Ludgate Hill branch, Mr. Hammond?”
“Could not be better, sir.”