contempt in her voice.

"A very important business engagement for this evening. Will you excuse
me? I can follow to-morrow."

"Can't it wait?"

"It's highly important."

"There's the 'phone to speak over."

"I have to come face to face with my man. Surely, Olive, you can spare
me for a day? Have you everything you want for the journey?"

"Who is the man?"

"Lars Larssen," answered Matheson. He lowered his voice slightly, though
on the bustling railway platform there was no likelihood of anyone
listening to the conversation.

Sir Francis nodded his head. He was heavily interested in
company-promoting himself, as a means of swelling an inadequate property
income, and Lars Larssen was a magic name.

"Hudson Bay scheme?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, business before pleasure," he remarked sententiously.