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Bull nodded.
"That's fine," he said. "It's not my way leaving things lying around either. I'll be on the jump to get through before sailing time to that little old country across the water. But tell me. That report. After it's in you'll have made all the good you reckon to? And then you, personally, cut right out of this thing?"
His manner gave no indication of the thing in his mind.
"Oh, yes," Nancy replied happily. "You see, I've bearded you--only you've no beard--in your fierce den up in Sachigo. And I've--and you've come right down here to Quebec with me to discuss with my people the thing they want to discuss with you. They didn't think I--they didn't hope that. Maybe I've done better than they expected. Why, when I hand the news to Mr. Peterman he'll--he'll--oh, I'm just dying to see his face when I tell him."
"You--haven't wired him already?"
"No. The news was too good to send by wire."
For a moment the man contemplated the simple radiant creature beside him. She was so transparently happy. And the sight of her happiness satisfied him.
"It'll--astonish him, eh?"
"Astonish him?" Nancy laughed. "That doesn't say a thing. I shouldn't wonder if he refused to believe me."
"And you'll get--promotion? Promotion--in Skandinavia?"
The girl's eyes sobered on the instant.
"Surely. Why not?"
"Yes. Why not?"
Just for a moment Nancy hesitated. Then her challenge came incisively.
"What do you mean?"
But the man smilingly shook his head.
"You want promotion under Peterman--in the Skandinavia?"
Nancy's eyes widened.
"Why shouldn't I? The Skandinavia's everything to me. It ought to be everything. Isn't that so? Now, I wonder what you mean?" she went on, after the briefest pause. "Are you talking that way just because you are a rival concern?" She shook her head. "That's no affair of mine. But wait while I tell you. Try and think yourself a young girl without folks that count, with a pretty tough world laid out in front of her, and with a healthy desire to dress, and eat the same as any other girl of her age. She's given a chance in life to make good, to gather round her all those things she needs, by--the Skandinavia. Well, how would you feel?
Wouldn't you want that--promotion? Yes. I want it. I want it with all my heart. The Skandinavia gave me my first start. They've been very, very good to me. I've big room in my heart for them. Their work's my work all the time. I've nothing but grat.i.tude for Mr. Peterman."
"Yes." Bull's smile had pa.s.sed. He was thinking of Nancy's feeling of grat.i.tude towards the Swede--Peterman.
He turned away, and the grey wintry daylight beyond the window seemed to absorb him. He was possessed by a mad desire to fling prudence to the winds and then and there point out the wrong he felt she was committing against the country that had bred her in spending her life in the service of these foreigners. But he knew he must refrain. It was not the moment. And somehow he felt she was not the girl to listen patiently to such ethics as he preached when their force was directed against those who claimed her whole loyalty and grat.i.tude.
To Nancy it seemed as though some shadow had arisen between them. She was a little troubled at the thing she had said. But somehow she had no desire to withdraw a single word of it.
The car had pa.s.sed out of the old part of the city. And Nancy realised it was ascending the great hill where the Chateau Hotel looked out over the old citadel and the wide waters of the busy St. Lawrence river. In a few minutes the happy companionship of the past few days would be only a memory.
It was only a little way to her apartments now. Such a very little way.
Yes. The porter would be there. He would take her trunks and baggage, and then her door would close behind her, and--She remembered that moment at which she had awakened to consciousness in this man's strong arms in the poor little saloon of the storm-beaten _Myra_. She remembered the embracing strength of them, and the way she had thrilled under their pressure. It had been all very wonderful.
"Say!"
Bull Sternford had turned back from the window. He was smiling again.
"Yes?" The girl was all eager attention.
"I was wondering," Bull went on. "Maybe you'll' fancy hearing how things are fixed after I see Peterman?"
"I'll be ever so glad. There's the 'phone. You can get me most any time after business hours. I don't go out much. I--"
Nancy broke off to glance out of the window. The automobile had slowed.
"Why, we're at my place," she cried. And the man fancied he detected disappointment in her tone.
The car stopped before the apartment house, and Bull hurled himself at the litter of the girl's belongings strewn about their feet. A few moments later they were standing together on the sidewalk surrounded by the baggage.
Bull gazed up at the building.
"You live here?" he asked at random.
Nancy nodded.
"Yes. It isn't much. But some day, maybe, I'll be able to afford a swell apartment with--"
"Sure you will," Bull agreed, as they pa.s.sed up the steps to the entrance doors. "But meanwhile I mostly need your 'phone number of this," he added with a laugh.
The baggage was left to the porter's care, and they stood together in the hallway. Bull's youthful stature was overshadowing for all Nancy was tall. Somehow the girl was glad of it. She liked his height, and the breadth of his great shoulders, and the power of limbs his tweed suit was powerless to disguise.
She moved across to the porter's office and wrote down her 'phone number while the man looked on. But he only had eyes for the girl herself. At that moment her telephone number was the last thing he desired to think about.
She stood up and offered him the paper.
"You won't forget it that way," she said, with a smile.
"No."
Bull glanced down at it. Then he looked again into the smiling eyes.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll ring up." Then he held out a hand. "So long."
He was gone. The gla.s.s door had swung to behind him. Nancy watched him pa.s.s into the waiting automobile, and responded to his final wave of the hand. Then she turned to the porter, and her smile had completely vanished.
Nathaniel h.e.l.lbeam stood up. He had been seated at Elas Peterman's desk studying the papers which his managing director had set out for his perusal. His gross body hung over the table for a moment as he reached towards his hat. He took his gloves from inside it and commenced to put them on.
"The _Myra_? You say she is in?" he asked in his guttural fashion. "This girl? This girl who is to buy up this--this Sachigo man," he laughed.
"Is she arrived?"
The man's eyes were alight with unpleasant derision. Peterman gave no heed. The man's arrogance was all too familiar to him.