It stood at three minutes to twelve.
Young Mr. Longworth was sitting there, with just a touch of pallor on his
countenance, and there seemed to be an ominous glitter in his eyeglass.
He said nothing, and John Kenyon completely ignored his presence.
'There is still some life left in my option, I believe?' he said to Von
Brent, after nodding good-day to him.
'Very little, but perhaps it will serve. You have two minutes and a
half,' said Von Brent.
'Are the papers ready?' inquired John.
'All ready, everything except putting in the names.'
'Very well, here is the money.'
Von Brent looked at the certified cheque. 'That is perfectly right,' he
said, 'the mine is yours.'
Then he rose and stretched his hand across the table to Kenyon, who
grasped it cordially.
Young Mr. Longworth also rose, and said languidly 'As this seems to be
a meeting of long-lost brothers, I shall not intrude. Good-day, Mr.
Von Brent.'
Then, adjusting his eyeglass in a leisurely manner, he walked out
of the room.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
When Edith Longworth entered the office of George Wentworth, that young
gentleman somewhat surprised her. He sprang from his chair the moment she
entered the room, rushed out of the door, and shouted at the top of his
voice to the boy, who answered him, whereupon Wentworth returned to the
room, apparently in his right mind.
'I beg your pardon, Miss Longworth,' he said, laughing; 'the fact was, I
had just sent my boy with a telegram for you, and now, you see, I have
saved sixpence.
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