Chapter 31: Chapter 31
Mr Gladman spent the morning writing on bits of paper trying to work out whether
he would be able afford his weekly contribution to the Brethren, as well as paying off
the property in Collins Street.
His concerns could be guessed by the occasional groan and the anguished way in
which the man clutched his beard. The sums were not working out as he would have
hoped.
Gabriel really did not care. He was still stunned by his engagement to Amy and the
prospect of a wedding in the near future.
Gladman knew nothing of this and later, after throwing down his pen, he came to
Gabriel, for lack of anyone else to confide in.
He was perspiring and his beard was awry. Gabriel thought he looked terrible, his
face was grey, and there were bags under his eyes that had not been there before.
"I knew from the start" he said, "that I was doing the wrong thing putting a deposit on
the property but I could not help myself. Never in my life have I met anyone like that
partner of yours. If he had a mind to he could persuade a person to fill his pockets
with stones and jump off Princes Bridge into the Yarra. All this worry made me pass
the worst night of my life. Did I tell you Mrs. Gladman has a nervous condition? She is
quite insistent that I cannot continue with the purchase because she is a very strong
adherent of the church and makes sure it receives a weekly tithe, which is not
consistent with the payment of the loan." He paused and thought while absentmindedly twining his beard through his fingers.
"Really, Mr Fox," he said, ''I understand from what Mr Pryor let fall that you have had
extensive experience in English property sales. In your considered judgment, now,
will the property increase in value as Mr Pryor promised? When I tried to explain Mr
Pryor's arguments about rising property values Mrs. Gladman became quite
hysterical. I had to send for the maid to help loosen her stays."
He bit his lips when he realized the enormity of what he had said and had to pause
before continuing. "She was brought up very strictly in the faith of the brethren. Her
parents used to take her to chapel three times every Sabbath and three times during
the week to choir practice, and evening services.
She takes her religious duties very seriously. She is head of the Ladies' Guild, and they
are contributing to the support of a missionary in India. When she learned of what I
had done and that I could no longer make my weekly offering to the brethren she had
hysterics so that I feared for her life. It was terrible; neither of us got a wink of sleep
all night. She insists that I get the deposit back, and I must do it, else I fear for the
consequences."
Gabriel thought that anyone who attended the services of the Faithful Brethren six
times a week as a child was bound to end up an hysteric, but he chose not to say so. As
for Mr Gladman getting his money back, it would be interesting to see who won the
tussle, Mrs. Gladman or James Pryor. He did not know Mrs. Gladman but the cheque
was safely deposited in the bank and helping temporarily to strengthen their finances.
Attempting to get the money back from Pryor would be an interesting exercise. He
could not but think that his partner would come out once more on top. He hoped so.
Apart from the pleasure of doing the Brethren in the eye the Collins Street property
would be a lot better investment.
They were interrupted by a boy of about ten or twelve coming in off the street and
calling out his name in a shrill voice. "Mr Fox! A letter for Mr Fox."
"Here, it's for me." said Gabriel, putting out his hand.
The Young Marvel
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The lad looked at him cheekily. "Frippence! Ya gotta give me frippence. The bloke
said y'd give me frippence for bringin' the letter."
Fox knew who the letter was from. Who else would send a letter collect from just
around the corner for threepence when he could send one by post across the country
for a penny. He felt in his waistcoat pocket for a threepenny coin. "You're the crossing
boy, aren't you?"
The boy nodded. He had left his broom leaning against the hoarding but he was one of
the cheeky children who made a living as best they could collecting tips from passers
by in return for sweeping rubbish and horse dung off the road before their footsteps.
They made a few shillings now and then by helping timid women across the road, or
running messages. Schooling had become compulsory in Victoria over the past few
years, but no doubt he had left school the day he turned twelve to escape to the free
life of the streets.
The messenger got threepence and left while Fox read the letter. It was brief. James
Pryor wanted him to come back to the office for half an hour. He had very pressing
business that could not be postponed. He was to come at once.
Mr Gladman was curious about the letter but Fox thought it better not to mention
who had sent it. He looked round the shop; it was still dim and quiet for no workmen
had come that morning to take down the hoardings.
"I have to leave you for a while," he said, picking up his hat. "You had better send Mrs.
Goss to the agency, see if they have anyone to take the screens down. I should be back
in three quarters of an hour to an hour." He knew his partner's conception of half an
hour was elastic; once he started talking it was difficult for him to come to a final,
rounded conclusion.
Mr Gladman sniffed but made no answer. He seemed lost in sombre gloom and
slumped at his desk which was covered by scribbled pieces of paper. Gabriel left just
as Mrs. Goss arrived and he gave her a quick explanation of Mr Gladman's mood and
said he would be back as soon as could be.