"We'll raise the money on the London market," Micky said airily. "In fact I thought Pilasters Bank might like to have the business." He tried to breathe slowly and normally. This was the climax of his long and painstaking cultivation of the Pilaster family: this was to be his reward for years of preparation.
But Edward shook his head and said: "I don't think so."
Micky was astonished and dismayed. At worst he had thought Edward would agree to think about it. "But you raise money for railroads all the time--I thought you'd be pleased to have the opportunity!"
"Cordova isn't the same as Canada or Russia," Edward said. "Investors don't like your political setup, with every provincial caudillo having his own personal army. It's medieval."
Micky had not thought of that. "You floated Papa's silver mine." That had happened three years ago, and had brought Papa a useful hundred thousand pounds.
"Exactly! It turned out to be the only silver mine in South America that struggles to make a profit."
In truth the mine was very rich, but Papa was skimming the profits off the top and leaving nothing for the shareholders. If only he had left a little margin for the sake of respectability! But Papa never listened to such counsel.
Micky fought down a panicky feeling, but his emotions must have shown on his face, for Edward said worriedly: "I say, old boy, is it terribly important? You look upset."
"To tell you the truth, it would mean quite a lot to my family," Micky admitted. He felt that Edward must be able to raise this money if he really wanted to; it could not be impossible. "Surely, if a bank with the prestige of Pilasters were to back the project, people would conclude that Cordova must be a good place to invest."
"There's something in that," Edward said. "If one of the partners put the idea up, and really wanted to push it through, it could probably be done. But I'm not a partner."
Micky had underestimated the difficulty of raising half a million pounds. But he was not beaten. He would find a way. "I'll have to think again," he said with forced cheerfulness.
Edward drained his sherry glass and stood up. "Shall we go to lunch?"
