“Yes, on the whole amount.”
“But the total contract amounts to nearly a million francs.”
“Exactly. I gave you the tinned-food contract. It is large, therefore I require a larger sum for my signature.”
There was silence for a few moments.
To Waldron it seemed by the rustle of paper that the German contractor must be scribbling a rapid sum to see exactly what the commission amounted to.
“I shall, of course, want the usual sum, twenty-five thousand francs down and the balance placed to the credit of the Countess in London seven days after the signed contract is delivered to you in Berlin,” His Excellency said.
“Well,” exclaimed the German in dismay at last. “That leaves us so very little that I really cannot decide it off-hand. I must telegraph at once to my partner, and will give you a decision to-morrow.”
“No, Herr Steinberg,” was the General’s answer. “I must know now—at once—yes or no. Personally it would give me greater popularity if I dealt in France, rather than in Germany. Besides, if I deal with Menier, my secretary knows nothing. So there is the position. You may leave or accept my terms—whichever you like. It is quite immaterial to me.”
Again they argued and haggled, the German pleading for time to communicate with his partner in Berlin, the General quite obdurate. The latter had much experience of contractors.
At last Herr Steinberg, shrewd business man that he was, seeing that the General’s mind was made up, said: “Very well. I accept your terms.”