One
gathered that the greatest discovery for many thousands of years would
shortly be announced to the world. A certified and unfailing tonic for
the moral system was shortly to be placed upon the market. A large
factory had been engaged for the manufacture of the new commodity, and
distributing warehouses in a central neighborhood. First come, first
served. Ten and sixpence a jar. The paper fluttered out of Mr.
Waddington's fingers. He looked across at Burton. Burton sank forward
in his chair, his head fell into his hands.
"What I want to know," Ellen continued, in a tone of some excitement,
"is--what is there coming to us for this? I never did give you credit,
Alfred--not in these days, at any rate--for so much common sense. I see
they have made you a director. If there's anything in those rotten
beans of yours, you've more in your head than I thought, to be trying to
make a bit of use of them. What are you getting out of it?"
There was a dead silence. Mr. Waddington had the appearance of a man
who has received a shock. Burton withdrew his hands from before his
face. He was looking pale and miserable.
"I am getting money," he admitted slowly. "I am getting a great deal of
money."
Ellen nodded.
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