Molloy took the paper and ran his finger down the names, mumbling them only half audibly. His finger travelled more and more slowly. All at once he stopped, and threw the paper from him along the bench. “What is it?” said Ember, in his cool tones. Molloy frowned, got up, walked to the end of the room, and came back again. He appeared to have something to say, and to experience extreme difficulty in saying it. His words, when he did speak, seemed irrelevant: “That’s a big sum they paid us for Formula ‘A,’” he said. “Did you ever handle as much money as that, Ember?” “No,” said Jeffrey Ember, short and sharp. “Nor I. It’s a queer thing the feeling it gives you. I tell you I came across with fear upon me, not knowing for sure whether I’d get away with it; but there was a lot besides fear in it. There was power, Ember, I tell you—power. Whilst I’d be sitting in the train, or walking down the street, or lying in my bed at an hotel, I’d be thinking to myself, I’ve got as much as would buy you up, and then there would be leavings.” “What are you driving at, Molloy?” said Ember. Molloy’s florid colour deepened. He narrowed his lids and looked through them at Ember. “Maybe I was thinking,” he said, “that there’s a proverb we might take note of.” “Well?” “It’s just a proverb,” said Mr. Molloy. “It’s been in my mind since I had the handling of the money—‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.’” Ember’s eyes lost their dull film. They brightened until Mr. Molloy was unable to sustain their glance. He shifted his gaze, and Ember said very quietly: “Are you thinking of selling us?” Molloy broke into an oath. “And that’s a thing no one shall say of me,” he said, with a violence that sent his voice echoing along through the open arches. “Then may I ask you what you meant?” “Why, just this.” Molloy dropped to an ingratiating tone. “There’s the money safe—certain—in our hands now. What’s the need of all this?” He came forward with two or three great strides, picked up the list from where he had thrown it, and beat with it upon his open hand. “All this,” he repeated—“this and what it stands for. You may say there’s no risk, but there’s a big risk. It’s a gamble, and what’s the need to be gambling when we’ve got the money safe?” “In plain English, you want to back out at the last moment?” “I do not, and I defy you to say that I do.” “Then what’s come to you?” “Here’s the thing that’s come to me. It came to me when I ran me eye down this list. See there, and that’ll tell ye what has come to me.” He thrust the list in front of Ember. “It’s Galway you’ve got set down there.” “Well, and what of it?” said Ember.