Over the top of it he glanced at Hardy,
who, leaning back in his chair, bit his pen and stared hard at a paper
before him.
"Is that the manifest of the North Star?" he inquired.
"No," was the reply.
Mr. Swann put his looking-glass away and watched the other as he crossed
over to the window and gazed through the small, dirty panes at the
bustling life of the harbour below. For a short time Hardy stood gazing
in silence, and then, suddenly crossing the room, took his hat from a peg
and went out.
"Restless," said the senior partner, wiping his folders with great care
and putting them on. "Wonder where he's put that manifest."
He went over to the other's desk and opened a drawer to search for it.
Just inside was a sheet of foolscap, and Mr. Swann with growing
astonishment slowly mastered the contents.
[Illustration: "Mr. Swann with growing astonishment slowly mastered the
contents."]
"See her as often as possible."
"Get to know some of her friends."
"Try and get hold of the old lady."
"Find out her tastes and ideas."
"Show my hand before Murchison has it all his own way."
"It seems to me," said the bewildered shipbroker, carefully replacing the
paper, "that my young friend is looking out for another partner. He
hasn't lost much time."
He went back to his seat and resumed his work.
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