"It is, of course, understood that this audit is strictly in
confidence?" said Von Holzen. "For your own satisfaction, and not in
any sense for publication. It is a trade secret."
"Of course," answered Cornish, to whom the question had been addressed.
"We trust to the honor of these gentlemen."
Cornish looked up and met the speaker's grave eyes.
"Yes," he said.
Roden, having emptied the large safe, leant his shoulder against the
iron mantelpiece and looked down at those seated at the
table--especially at Mr. Wade. His hands were in his pockets; his face
wore a careless smile. He had not resumed his coat, and the cleanliness
of the books testified to the fact that he always worked in
shirt-sleeves. It was a trick of the trade, which exonerated him from
the necessity of apologizing.
Mr. Wade took the great ledgers, opened them, fluttered the pages with
his fingers, and set them aside one after the other. Then Roden seemed
to recollect something. He went to a drawer and took from it a packet
of neatly folded papers held together by elastic rings. The top one he
unfolded and laid on the table before Mr. Wade.
"Trial balance-sheet of 31st of March," he said.
Mr. Wade glanced up and down the closely written columns, which were
like copper-plate--an astounding mass of figures. The additions in the
final column ran to six numerals. The banker folded the paper and laid
it aside.
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