'How was it Cragin?' I asked, greatly pleased.
A short rap came at the office-door, and Frank entered, his hat in his hand.
'Mother insists on my taking supper with her—will you go now, sir?' he said, addressing me.
Before I could reply, Mr. Hallet, rather sharply, asked:
'Have you finished your letters for the steamer?'
'Yes, sir.'
'What have you said to Maclean, Maris & Co., about the gum-copal?'
'I will show you, sir.'
And going into the other room, Frank returned in a moment with an open letter, still wet from the copying-press. Mr. Hallet took it and read it over slowly and carefully, then handing it back, he said, in the slightly pompous tone which was natural to him:
'That will do—you can go.'