It was Senior Polycarp, the lawyer.
Hugo flushed, and, abandoning the manager in the middle of a sentence,
fled to his central office. He had no confidence in his self-command....
Could this be jealousy? Was it possible that he, Hugo, should be so far
gone? Nay!
But what was Polycarp, that old and desiccated widower, doing in the
millinery department?
He said he must form some definite plan, and begin by giving her a
private room.
CHAPTER III
HUGO EXPLAINS HIMSELF
'And what,' asked Hugo, smiling faintly at Mr. Senior Polycarp--'what is
your client's idea of price?'
For half an hour they had been talking in the luxurious calm of Hugo's
central office, which was like an island refuge in the middle of that
tossing ocean of business. It overlooked the court of fountains from the
second story, and the highest jet of water threw a few jewelled drops to
the level of its windows.
Mr. Polycarp stroked his beautiful white moustache.
'We would give,' he said in his mincing, passionless voice, 'the cost
price of premises, stock, and fixtures, and for goodwill seven times
your net annual profits. In addition, we should be anxious to secure
your services as managing director for ten years at five thousand a
year, plus a percentage of profits.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29