"Oh! I know what
to do with my little bit. I can get ten per cent in Seattle and twelve
to fifteen in Calgary on my little bit; and security just as good as
English railway stock--_and_ better!"
The theatre was darkened and the cinematograph began its restless
twinkling.
Mr. Bryany went on offering to Edward Henry, in a suitably lowered
voice, his views on the great questions of investment and speculation,
and Edward Henry made cautious replies.
"And even when there _is_ a good thing going at home," Mr. Bryany
said, in a wounded tone, "what Englishman'd look at it?"
"I would," said Edward Henry with a blandness that was only skin-deep.
For all the time he was cogitating the question whether the presence
of Dr Stirling in the audience ought or ought not to be regarded as
providential.
"Now, I've got the option on a little affair in London," said Mr.
Bryany, while Edward Henry glanced quickly at him in the darkness.
"And can I get anybody to go into it? I can't."
"What sort of a little affair?"
"Building a theatre in the West End."
Even a less impassive man than Edward Henry would have started at the
coincidence of this remark. And Edward Henry started. Twenty minutes
ago he had been idly dreaming of theatrical speculation, and now he
could almost see theatrical speculation shimmering before him in the
pale shifting rays of the cinematograph that cut through the gloom of
the mysterious auditorium.
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