The drum of the revolving door beat the salute and the three directors of the Apostolatos Bank, supported by their general manager, Mr. Rota, rose to their feet. They were waiting for Lewis in the middle of the huge office lined with strong boxes let into the wall, with portraits of the Chairman of the Bank in 1846, 1852, 1867 and 1876 (all of them, even though Greeks to the core, become either from vanity or necessity English knights, Turkish pashas, Austrian barons, etc.; in each case there was a change in the cut of the frock coat and the shape of the top hat). They examined one another. Lewis saw that beneath their ultra British exteriors, their lounge coats, buttonholes and fancy trousers of City men, he was dealing with Orientals, jealous, passionate, untutored, sons of men who had specialized in exactly the same kind of business for a century, negotiating it with tradition, patience and greed; in fact the exact opposite to himself. Their skin, in contrast to that of their English subordinate staff, was yellow. Some Samos wine was brought and they got to work. They worked quickly, these Greeks having sacrificed to Anglo-Saxon methods their natural taste for verbiage and quibbling. The conditions were as follows:-- The Apostolatos Bank were prepared to take over the San Lucido property for the sum of £150,000 sterling. In addition, they would refund the money spent on works concessions, on commissions and adjudications, and the sums advanced for harbour dues. The Greeks were also to take over the material already brought to the spot and would compensate the French Bank for the two waterfalls already harnessed and for the turbines installed, even taking over the dynamos then on their way between Marseilles and Porto Empedocle. In consideration of this, 167,000 shares (out of the 200,000 which Lewis controlled) would pass into their black Palikar paws. At this moment a boy brought in a message. The oldest, Pisistrates, his skull as bare as a Greek landscape, pulled out his watch:-- "My cousin Irene has telephoned to say she will be a few minutes late. She only landed from Trieste this morning. It is essential that she should be here for the exchange of signatures." X "ARE you going back to the West End?" "I am going further. I am staying with my uncle Solon in Bayswater," said Irene. "Let me drive you back." "I'd much better drive you back to your hotel; I've got a car." "Well, as a matter of fact, I want to talk to you," said Lewis, bluntly. "Very well, then." They went out together and crossed the road through the lunch-time traffic, through the crush of lorries and buses wedged together like pack ice and loaded to bursting point, in the canyon-like streets, between the streams of people emitted from the offices to be swallowed up underground or to lunch standing up in bars and in A.B.C. tea shops.