The other man, seeing his start
and his amazed, troubled flush, put
out a hand and touched his arm
apologetically.
"I beg your pardon," he said.
"One of the things I was going to
tell you--I had not finished--was
that I AM what is called a gentleman.
I am also what the world knows as a
rich man. I am Sir Oliver Holt."
Each member of the party gazed
at him aghast. It was an enormous
name to claim. Even the two female
creatures knew what it stood for. It
was the name which represented the
greatest wealth and power in the world
of finance and schemes of business.
It stood for financial influence which
could change the face of national
fortunes and bring about crises. It was
known throughout the world. Yesterday
the newspaper rumor that its
owner had mysteriously left England
had caused men on 'Change to discuss
possibilities together with lowered
voices.
Glad stared at the curate. For the
first time she looked disturbed and
alarmed.
"Blimme," she ejaculated, " 'e 's
gone off 'is nut, pore chap!--'e 's
gone off it!"
"No," the man answered, "you
shall come to me"--he hesitated a
second while a shade passed over his
eyes--"TO-MORROW. And you shall
see."
He rose quietly to his feet and the
curate rose also. Abnormal as the
climax was, it was to be seen that
there was no mistake about the
revelation. The man was a creature of
authority and used to carrying
conviction by his unsupported word.
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