"Without impertinence," said he, "why can't it fail ?" "Because God is guiding it," said Silas Finn.
The fanatic spoke.

Paul regarded him with renewed interest.

The black hair streaked with white, banging over the temples on the side away from the parting, the queerly streaked beard, the clear-cut ascetic features, the deep, mournful eyes in whose depths glowed a soul on fire, gave him the appearance of a mad but sanctified apostle.

Barney Bill, who profoundly distrusted all professional drinkers of water, such as Mr.Finn's employees, ate his cold beef silently, in the happy surmise that no one was paying the least attention to his misperformances with knife, fork and fingers.

Jane looked steadily from Paul to Silas and from Silas to Paul.
Paul said: "How do you know God is guiding it ?" At the back of his mind was an impulse of mirth--there was a touch of humorous blasphemy in the conception of the Almighty as managing director of "Fish Palaces, Limited"-- but the nominal earthly managing director saw not the slightest humour in the proposition.
"Who is guiding you in your brilliant career ?" he asked.
Paul threw out his hands, in the once practised and now natural foreign gesture.