It finished by asserting that unless the committee was immediately lifted to absolute power the company would be quite ruined.
Priam re-read the letter aloud.
"What does it all mean ?" asked Alice quietly.
"Well," said he, "that's what it means." "Does it mean-- ?" she began.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I forgot.

I saw something on a placard this morning about Cohoon's, and I thought it might interest you, so I bought it." So saying, he drew from his pocket the _Financial Times_, which he had entirely forgotten.

There it was: a column and a quarter of the Chairman's speech, and nearly two columns of stormy scenes.

The Chairman was the Marquis of Drumgaldy, but his rank had apparently not shielded him from the violence of expletives such as "Liar!" "Humbug!" and even "Rogue!" The Marquis had merely stated, with every formula of apology, that, owing to the extraordinary depreciation in licensed property, the directors had not felt justified in declaring any dividend at all on the Ordinary Shares of the company.

He had made this quite simple assertion, and instantly a body of shareholders, less reasonable and more avaricious even than shareholders usually are, had begun to turn the historic hall of the Cannon Street Hotel into a bear garden.