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Mr. Prohack by Arnold Bennett
page 211 of 489 (43%)
Paul. He felt himself to be in the highest state of physical efficiency.
From head to foot he was beyond criticism. When Mr. Prohack had got as
far as his waistcoat Sir Paul uprose ponderously from the easy-chair.

"Hi, Paul!"

The encounter between the two friends was one of those affectionate and
ecstatic affairs that can only happen in a Turkish Bath.

"I've been trying to get you on the 'phone half the day," grunted Paul
Spinner, subsiding on to Mr. Prohack's sofa.

"I've been out all day. Horribly busy," said Mr. Prohack. "What's wrong?
Anything wrong?"

"Oh, no! Only I thought you'd like to know I've finished that deal."

"I did hear some tall stories, but not a word from you, old thing." Mr.
Prohack tried to assume a tranquillity which he certainly did not feel.

"Well, I never sing until I'm out of the wood. But this time I'm out
sooner than I expected."

"Any luck?"

"Yes. But I dictated a letter to you before I came here."

"I suppose you can't remember what there was in it."

"I shall get the securities next week."
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