Flower cannot possibly answer, and in a jiff they might start in to offer the subscriptions down, and before one could whistle a bar from 'Wait Till the Clouds Roll By' the air might be full of falling stars."
This seemed to strike home.
"Well, what have you to propose?" he asked.
"Some one should be ready in the market to take any amount of stock—" I argued.
He interrupted in his old aggressive way before the sentence was half out of my mouth:
"Cut that line out, Lawson; I told you Flower has that end of the affair entirely in his hands."
And at this point my resolution to keep quiet and play the game did almost go by the board. For a second I literally boiled. Then there flashed before my mind's mirror the dreadful procession of the night before, and I once more held tight and, oh, so deferentially and politely, like a chastened school-boy, went on: