Waters said nothing, but resolved to have a word with the young woman when he went down.
The morning was fine; in any case, Brand could not have borne the distress of waiting in all day, on the chance of her reply coming. He had to be moving. He walked up to Lisle Street, and saw Reitzei, on the pretext of talking about Kirski.
"Lind will be back in a week," said the pallid-faced smart young man. "He writes with great satisfaction, which always means something in his case. I should not wonder if he and his daughter went to live in the States."
"Oh, indeed," said Brand, coldly; but the words made his heart tremble.
"Yes. And if you would only go through the remaining degrees, you might take his place—who knows?"
"Who knows, indeed?" said Brand. "But I don't covet the honor."
There was something in his tone which made the other look up.
"I mean the responsibility," he said, quickly.
"You see," observed Reitzei, leaning back in his chair, "one must admit you are having rather hard lines. Your work is invaluable to us—Lind is most proud of it—but it is tedious and difficult, eh? Now if they were to give you something like the Syrian business—"