"Do you mind telling me what you're driving at?" he asked, in
his old, laconic voice.
Lakely still scrutinized him with an air of brisk
satisfaction; then with a gesture of finality he tossed his
cigar away.
"My dear chap," he said, "there's going to be a breach
somewhere--and Fraide says you're the man to step in and fill
it! You see, five years ago, when things looked lively on the
Gulf and the Bundar Abbas business came to light, you did some
promising work; and a reputation like that sticks to a man
--even when he turns slacker! I won't deny that you've slacked
abominably," he added, as Loder made an uneasy movement, "but
slacking has different effects. Some men run to seed, others
mature. I had almost put you down on the black list, but I've
altered my mind in the last two months."
Again Loder stirred in his seat. A host of emotions were
stirring in his mind. Every word wrung from Lakely was
another stimulus to pride, another subtle tribute to the
curious force of personality.
"Well?" he said.
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