"
The old man dropped his bag with a clatter upon the pavement, and
his lips moved for a moment without any speech coming from them.
Da Souza picked up the bag and devoutly hoped that none of his City
friends were in the way.
"I don't exactly know about being a shareholder," the old man said
nervously, "but I've certainly something to do with it. I am, or
should have been, joint vendor. The Company is wealthy, is it not?"
Da Souza changed the bag into his other hand and thrust his arm
through his companion's.
" You haven't seen the papers lately, have you?"
"No! I've just landed - to-day - from Africa!"
"Then I'm sorry to say there's some bad news for you," Da Souza
said. "The Bekwando Land and Gold Company has gone into liquidation
- smashed up altogether. They say that all the directors and the
vendor will be arrested. It seems to have been a gigantic swindle."
Monty had become a dead weight upon his arm. They were in the
Strand now, and he pushed open the swing-door of a public-house,
and made his way into the private bar. When Monty opened his eyes
he was on a cushioned seat, and before him was a tumbler of brandy
half empty. He stared round him wildly. His lips were moist and
the old craving was hot upon him.
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