dinner-table."

Sir Francis made an inarticulate noise which was a kind of tribute to
the fetish of good form. He wanted to hear more, but did not want to ask
to hear more.

"Please go on," said Olive. "Talk business now just as much as you like.
Unless, of course, you'd rather not discuss details while I'm here."

"I'd sooner talk business with you present, Mrs Matheson. I think a wife
has every right to be her husband's business partner. I think it's good
for both sides. When my dear wife was with me, we were share-and-share
partners." He paused for a moment, then continued: "Here's the draft
scheme for the flotation."

He held out a paper between Sir Francis and Olive, and Sir Francis took
it and read it over with an air of concentrated, conscious wisdom--the
air he carefully donned at Board meetings, together with a pair of
gold-rimmed pince-nez.

"Clifford will be Chairman," explained Larssen. "You and Lord St Aubyn
and Carleton-Wingate are the men I want for the other Directors. I, as
vendor, join the Board after allotment."

"Where's the point about shares for me?" asked Sir Francis, reading on.

"That doesn't appear in the prospectus, of course. A private arrangement
between Clifford and myself. Here's the memorandum."

This he handed to Olive, who nodded her head with pleasure as she read