Fantasy fiction, English; Horror tales, English; Supernatural -- Fiction
When, therefore, the chief cashier one day informed him that the man
was to be in London again--this time as General Manager of the head
office--and said that he was charged to find a private secretary for him
from among the best clerks, and further intimated that the selection
had fallen upon himself, Jones accepted the promotion quietly,
fatalistically, yet with a degree of inward loathing hardly to be
described. For he saw in this merely another move in the evolution of
the inevitable Nemesis which he simply dared not seek to frustrate by
any personal consideration; and at the same time he was conscious of a
certain feeling of relief that the suspense of waiting might soon be
mitigated. A secret sense of satisfaction, therefore, accompanied the
unpleasant change, and Jones was able to hold himself perfectly well in
hand when it was carried into effect and he was formally introduced as
private secretary to the General Manager.
Now the Manager was a large, fat man, with a very red face and bags
beneath his eyes. Being short-sighted, he wore glasses that seemed to
magnify his eyes, which were always a little bloodshot. In hot weather a
sort of thin slime covered his cheeks, for he perspired easily. His head
was almost entirely bald, and over his turn-down collar his great neck
folded in two distinct reddish collops of flesh. His hands were big and
his fingers almost massive in thickness.
He was an excellent business man, of sane judgment and firm will,
without enough imagination to confuse his course of action by showing
him possible alternatives; and his integrity and ability caused him to
be held in universal respect by the world of business and finance. In
the important regions of a man's character, however, and at heart, he
was coarse, brutal almost to savagery, without consideration for others,
and as a result often cruelly unjust to his helpless subordinates.
In moments of temper, which were not infrequent, his face turned a dull
purple, while the top of his bald head shone by contrast like white
marble, and the bags under his eyes swelled till it seemed they would
presently explode with a pop. And at these times he presented a
distinctly repulsive appearance.
But to a private secretary like Jones, who did his duty regardless of
whether his employer was beast or angel, and whose mainspring was
principle and not emotion, this made little difference. Within the
narrow limits in which any one _could_ satisfy such a man, he pleased
the General Manager; and more than once his piercing intuitive faculty,
amounting almost to clairvoyance, assisted the chief in a fashion that
served to bring the two closer together than might otherwise have
been the case, and caused the man to respect in his assistant a power
of which he possessed not even the germ himself. It was a curious
relationship that grew up between the two, and the cashier, who enjoyed
the credit of having made the selection, profited by it indirectly as
much as any one else.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account