THE conference promised to be interesting. Gerald had attended such meetings before, but usually they were a wearisome rehash of the obvious with a constant emphasis on the duties of the younger generation towards their elders. This time promised to be different.
Cyril, at the head of the table, rapped for silence, and, in his best boardroom manner, opened the proceedings.
“For the benefit of late arrivals,” he glanced at Arnold Franks, a man of about Gerald’s age, who had only, arrived an hour ago, “I would like to introduce Prosper, of whom you have probably heard. Prosper, you have the floor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Waterman.” Prosper rose to his feet, rested his hands on the table, cleared his throat and began speaking in a dry, almost ironical voice. Listening to him, Gerald was reminded
