He had a habit of opening drawers and peering into them absently during the progress of an interview, as if looking for some particular paper, that was never to be found.
After this the conversation became less personal.

The brothers talked a little of the events of the day, the money-article in that morning's Times, the probability or improbability of a change in the rate of discount.

But this conversation soon flagged, and Mr.Sheldon rose to depart.
"I suppose that sheet of cartridge-paper which you had so much trouble to fold is one of your genealogical tables," he said as he was going.
"You needn't try to keep things dark from me, George.

I'm not likely to steal a march upon you; my own business gives me more work than I can do.

But if you have really got a good thing at last, I shouldn't mind going into it with you, and finding the money for the enterprise." George Sheldon looked at his elder brother with a malicious flitter in his eyes.
"On condition that you got the lion's share of the profits," he said.
"O yes; I know how generous you are, Phil.