"_
At the end the president suddenly lowered his head with a smile, and
looked over the top of his glasses at his audience, clearly meaning,
"There's a letter for you!"
But two of the gentlemen were fast asleep, nodding gently at one another
across the table, while their hands clasped the arms of their chairs.
The other one was looking up toward the roofs of the buildings opposite,
absorbed in speculation.
The president said, aloud:
"I think, as long as Fields has made such a touse about it, that I'd
better draft a reply, and not give him a verbal an--"
"Draft!" said the speculator, brought to life by the word. "Draft did
you say, sir? What?--On whom?--"
"I said 'draft a reply' to--to this," returned the other, waving the
letter.
"Oh, a reply! Draft one. Draft a reply--a reply to the letter about the
salary. Oh, certainly, by all means."
"And read it to the directors at the meeting next Friday," suggested the
president.
The speculator's eyes turned vacantly upon him, and it was full half a
minute before he comprehended.
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