The Golden Amazon (The Original Golden Amazon Saga Book 1) by John Russell Fearn

Author:John Russell Fearn [Fearn, John Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Venture Press
Published: 2016-07-22T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

Vernon Brant did not return home immediately after the meeting with Millbank and his associates. Instead he stopped off at the works and put into effect the decision he had made on the journey up.

In a few short sentences to the workers he announced his intention of relinquishing control of the works — and as he had expected nobody — not even Robinson the chief foreman — seemed much worried. They were too interested in the promises of the Golden Amazon for that. In vain Brant tried to explain that the Amazon was his adopted daughter: if anything it made matters worse. So, grim faced, he returned home and told his wife and Beatrice exactly what he had done.

“In plain language,” Beatrice said finally, “you admit that you are ruined — by Vi! Is that it?”

“You could surely have made some sort of a show,” his wife said.

“How the devil could I? I did everything —”

Brant broke off as Parker, the manservant, appeared in the doorway.

“You are wanted on the telephone, Mr. Brant. Mr. Millbank of London, I believe.”

Brant nodded and went out into the hall. It was the voice of the industrialist all right, and his bulldog face was mirrored on the visiplate.

“Oh, hallo, Brant! I’ve just been discussing affairs a little further with Sidcombe and Mainwaring, and I think — Well, maybe we were a little discourteous when you were over here.”

Brant gave an acid smile. “A little!” he echoed.

“You told us a great deal which seems more interesting now we’ve chewed it over,” Millbank went on. “It seems to me that we have got to come to terms with this daughter of yours whether we like it or not.”

“Well?” Brant asked quietly. “What’s your suggestion?”

“That we meet her. Can you arrange it? We surely ought to be able to arrange a compromise of some kind.”

“It’s possible,” Brant admitted. “Where do we meet? She can be reached at her salon in London —”

“No, no — your home. So much more privacy. If you’re agreeable?”

“Very well. I’ll get in touch with her and ask her to come over. When exactly do you propose to hold this meeting?”

“We’ll be over tomorrow morning first thing. We want to get this thing cleared up. In fact we might even find time to come over later tonight.”

“As you wish,” Brant agreed. “I’ll ask her to come over right away then whenever you come she’ll be here. Goodbye.”

He replaced the receiver and contacted the Plus Clothing Company. After some preamble he was speaking to the girl herself.

“Do you think, Vi, that you would be prepared to come home to a business conference? Not just on my account, but also to meet Millbank and one or two other big men?”

“I rather thought you told me never to come back,” she answered coldly, her face expressionless on the visiplate.

“I meant it,” Brant retorted. “That is purely my personal wish. It has nothing to do with business. All I want is a plain ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’ if you won’t come here we must come to you.

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