Vansittart, "why you should
not go on doing a large business, as you say your method of producing
malgamite is an absolute secret."
"Absolute."
"And the process is preserved in your memory only?" asked the lady,
with a little glance towards him which would have awakened the vanity
of wiser men than Percy Roden.
"Not in my memory," he answered. "It is very long and technical, and I
have other things to think of. It is in Von Holzen's head, which is a
better one than mine."
"And suppose Herr von Holzen should fall down and die, or be murdered,
or something dramatic of that sort--what would happen?"
"Ah," answered Roden, "we have a written copy of it, written in Hebrew,
in our small safe at the works, and only Von Holzen and I have the keys
of the safe."
Mrs. Vansittart laughed. "It sounds like a romance," she said. She
pulled up, and sat motionless in the saddle for a few moments. "Look at
that line of sea," she said, "on the horizon. What a wonderful blue."
"It is always dark like that with an east wind," replied Roden,
practically. "We like to see it dark."
Mrs. Vansittart turned and looked at him interrogatively, her mind only
half-weaned from the thoughts which he never understood.
"Because we know that the smell of malgamite will be blown out to sea,"
he explained; and she gave a little nod of comprehension.
"You think of everything," she said, without enthusiasm.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173