"He'll go mad fast enough with a bottle of brandy within reach, and
you know it," Trent answered fiercely. "I am going to take him away
from here."
Da Souza was no longer cringing. He shrugged his shoulders and
thrust his fat little hands into his trousers pockets.
"Very well," he said darkly, "you go your own way. You won't take
my advice. I've been a City man all my life, and I know a thing or
two. You bring Monty to the general meeting of the Bekwando Company
and explain his position, and I tell you, you'll have the whole
market toppling about your ears. No concern of mine, of course. I
have got rid of a few of my shares, and I'll work a few more off
before the crash. But what about you? What about Scarlett Trent,
the millionaire?"
"I can afford to lose a bit," Trent answered quietly, "I'm not
afraid."
Da Souza laughed a little hysterically.
"You think you're a financial genius, I suppose," he said, "because
you've brought a few things off. Why, you don't know the A B C of
the thing. I tell you this, my friend. A Company like the Bekwando
Company is very much like a woman's reputation, drop a hint or two,
start just a bit of talk, and I tell you the flames'11 soon do the
work."
Trent turned his back upon him.
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