Darius was breathing and fidgeting all over him as he sat bent at the
desk. His presence overwhelmed every other physical phenomenon.
"What's this?" asked Darius, picking up the bit of paper on which Edwin
had written the memorandum about "The Light of Asia."
Edwin explained, self-consciously, lamely.
When the barometer of Darius's temper was falling rapidly, there was a
sign: a small spot midway on the bridge of his nose turned ivory-white.
Edwin glanced upwards now to see if the sign was there, and it was. He
flushed slightly and resumed his work.
Then Darius began.
"What did I tell ye?" he shouted. "What in the name of God's the use o'
me telling ye things? Have I told ye not to take any more orders for
books, or haven't I? Haven't I said over and over again that I want
this shop to be known for wholesale?" He raved.
------------------------------------------------------------------------