Читать книгу Seven Men Came Back - Warwick Deeping - Страница 13

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Mr. Loviebond, of Hurst, Loviebond & Loviebond, thrusting into the turmoil of the “House” on urgent business, met one of the firm’s authorized clerks retreating from the purlieus of the Rubber Market. The clerk had been dispatched to spy out the land, for business was both active and jumpy.

“Got a price, Smith?”

“Buzzing about like mosquitoes, sir.”

“Yes; but what’s the market for Mindovas?”

“They are quoting seven-nine at the moment, sir.”

Loviebond strolled on. Already he was noted for his air of dignified languor, and an attitude of sententious self-importance. He was very much the son of his father, capable of confronting friendly chaff, and of carefully concealing his intentions. The jobbers were familiar with the little bored smile of the Loviebond firm. It was as perfectly tailored as their persons, and might have been decorated with a monocle.

Loviebond sparred with three jobbers before he extracted a price that should please a very important client.

“Right, five thousand Mindovas, 1¹⁵⁄₃₂ to 1½. Chalk it up.”

Loviebond went on to do a little business in the Kaffir Market, and having accomplished it to his satisfaction, he had reached Drapers Gardens when the Silence fell. He stood there very correctly, hands pressed to the seams of his trousers, his chin well up. Two clerks stood close to him. A red-nosed commissionaire had been caught in the act of blowing that particular organ. He had crumpled up the cambric in a big fist and remained rigid.

The Silence passed, and the motionless figures came to life. Loviebond entered a doorway. The firm’s offices were on the ground floor, and pushing through the swing doors, he passed through a room crowded with clerks into his private office. He sat down at the desk and, picking up the telephone receiver, rang up the Hallam Hotel.

“Hallo, that the Hallam? Mr. Loviebond speaking. I want the manager or the head-waiter.”

There was a pause.

“Hallo, is that the head-waiter? Good. Mr. Loviebond speaking. Everything O.K. for to-night? Yes. Seven. I said seven. Got those oysters? Right, I shall be along about seven-fifteen. Yes, four bottles of champagne. Right.”

He smiled a little crisp smile and asked the exchange to put him on to another number. There was some delay, but presently a voice challenged him.

“Who’s that speaking?”

“Hallo, is it you, Bernard? Yes. I got the Mindovas all right. Yes, managed to cut it close, fifteen thirty-two to a half. Satisfied?—Splendid. You’re coming to-night. What—busy—— I—know—you are. But you’re coming? Great. So long, old man. Yes, the Hallam’s not quite your beat, but they’ll give us a good dinner. Yes, one had to keep the price down for some of the others. Finding their financial level, what! Right ho. See you to-night.”