Throughout this speech Michael had grown very hot. ‘“Old Forsyte” was right,’ he thought; ‘they’re on their uppers, after all.’
There was a sudden creak from his neighbour on the left.
‘Mr Tolby,’ said the chairman.
‘It’s a serious matter, this, gentlemen. I propose that the Board withdraw, an’ leave us to discuss it.’
‘I second that,’ said Michael’s neighbour on the right.
Searching the vista of the Board, Michael saw recognition gleam for a second in the lonely face at the end, and grinned a greeting.
The chairman was speaking.
‘If that is your wish, gentlemen, we shall be happy to comply with it. Will those who favour the motion hold up their hands?’
All hands were held up, with the exception of Michael’s, of two women whose eager colloquy had not permitted them to hear the request, and of one shareholder, just in front of Michael, so motionless that he seemed to be dead.
‘Carried,’ said the chairman, and rose from his seat.
Michael saw his father smiling, and speaking to ‘Old Forsyte’ as they both stood up. They all filed out, and the door was closed.
‘Whatever happens,’ Michael thought, ‘I’ve got to keep my head shut, or I shall be dropping a brick.’
‘Perhaps the Press will kindly withdraw, too,’ he heard someone say.
With a general chinny movement, as if inquiring their rights of no one in particular, the four Pressmen could be seen to clasp their notebooks. When their pale reluctance had vanished, there was a stir among the shareholders, like that of ducks when a dog comes up behind. Michael saw why at once. They had their backs to each other. A shareholder said:
‘Perhaps Mr Tolby, who proposed the withdrawal, will act as chairman.’
Michael’s left-hand neighbour began breathing heavily.
‘Right-o!’ he said. ‘Anyone who wants to speak, kindly ketch my eye.’
Everyone now began talking to his neighbour, as though to get at once a quiet sense of proportion, before speaking. Mr Tolby was breathing so heavily that Michael felt a positive draught.
‘’Ere, gentlemen,’ he said suddenly, ‘this won’t do! We don’t want to be too formal, but we must preserve some order. I’ll open the discussion myself. Now, I didn’t want to ’urt the feelin’s of the Board by plain speakin’ in their presence. But, as Mr What’s-’is-name there, said: The public ’as got to protect itself against sharpers, and against slackness. We all know what ‘appened the other day, and what’ll ’appen again in other concerns, unless we shareholders look after ourselves. In the first place, then, what I say is: They ought never to ’ave touched anything to do with the ’Uns. In the second place, I saw they showed bad judgement. And in the third place I saw they were too thick together. In my opinion, we should propose a vote of no confidence.’
Cries of: ‘Hear, hear!’ mixed with indeterminate sounds, were broken sharply by a loud: ‘No!’ from the shareholder who had seemed dead. Michael’s heart went out to him, the more so as he still seemed dead. The negative was followed by the rising of a thin, polished-looking shareholder, with a small grey moustache.
‘If you’ll forgive my saying so, sir,’ he began, ‘your proposal seems to me very rough-and-ready justice. I should be interested to know how you would have handled such a situation if you bid been on the Board. It is extremely easy to condemn other people!’
‘Hear, hear!’ said Michael, astonished at his own voice.
‘It is all very well,’ the polished shareholder went on, ‘when anything of this sort happens, to blame a directorate, but, speaking as a director myself, I should be glad to know whom one is to trust, if not one’s manager. As to the policy of foreign insurance, it has been before us at two general meetings; and we have pocketed the profit from it for nearly two years. Have we raised a voice against it?’
The dead shareholder uttered a ‘No!’ so loud that Michael almost patted his head.
The shareholder, whose neck and back were like a doctor’s, rose to answer.
‘I differ from the last speaker in his diagnosis of the case. Let us admit all he says, and look at the thing more widely. The proof of pudding is in the eating. When a Government makes a bad mistake of judgement, the electorate turns against it as soon as it feels the effects. This is a very sound check on administration; it may be rough and ready, but it is the less of two evils. A Board backs its judgement; when it loses, it should pay. I think, perhaps, Mr Tolby, being our informal chairman, was out of order in proposing a vote of no confidence; if that be so, I should be happy to do so, myself.’