"Get to know some of her friends."

"Try and get hold of the old lady."

"Find out her tastes and ideas."

"Show my hand before Murchison has it all his own way."

"It seems to me," said the bewildered shipbroker, carefully replacing the
paper, "that my young friend is looking out for another partner. He
hasn't lost much time."

He went back to his seat and resumed his work. It occurred to him that
he ought to let his partner know what he had seen, and when Hardy
returned he had barely seated himself before Mr. Swann with a mysterious
smile crossed over to him, bearing a sheet of foolscap.

"Try and dress as well as my partner," read the astonished Hardy.
"What's the matter with my clothes? What do you mean?"

Mr. Swann, in place of answering, returned to his desk and, taking up
another sheet of foolscap, began to write again, holding up his hand for
silence as Hardy repeated his question. When he had finished his task he
brought it over and placed it in the other's hand.

"Take her little brother out for walks."

Hardy crumpled the paper up and flung it aside. Then, with his face
crimson, he stared wrathfully at the benevolent Swann.