By the time he reached the dock gates the proposition had grown so rosy that his only fear was lest someone else should discover its attractiveness and get in ahead of him. By the time he got off the bus in Saint Paul’s Churchyard it seemed to him that he was doing his half-brother a really good turn in allowing him the first chance of so advantageous a business opportunity.
The spruce-looking master mariner who gave in his name at a little hole marked “Inquiries” on the ground-floor of a warehouse just behind the Church of Saint Sempronius Without was a very different person from the haggard being who had glared back at him from the glass an hour ago.
Edward Broughton’s place of business was a large, modern edifice each of whose many ground-floor windows displayed a device representing
