THE ACCOUNTANT AT THE BANK
The manager made a little grimace.
"That sort of thing may be necessary in South Africa," he said, "but here in the very heart of the money world cash payments are a form of lunacy. I do not want you to repeat this to your relative."
"I am hardly likely to do that," said Frank, "though I do think you ought to allow something for uncle's peculiar experiences in the early days of his career."
"Oh, I make every allowance," said the other; "only it is very inconvenient, but it was not to discuss your uncle's shortcomings that I brought you here."
He pulled out a pass book from a heap in front of him.
"'Mr. Rex Holland,'" he read. "He opened his account while I was on my holiday, you remember."
"I remember very well," said Frank, "and he opened it through me."
"What sort of man is he?" asked the manager.
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