Collis nodded. Around them, the lunchroom was noisy and jostling, and the clatter of empty clamshells being cleared off plates sounded like castanets. ‘I want to keep you, Hannah,’ Collis added, and reached out to take her wrist.

‘Yes,’ she said, lovingly but somehow vaguely. ‘But you won’t be cruel to him, will you? You won’t—’

‘I’ll treat him as gently as china,’ Collis assured her.

Hannah picked up her coffee cup, realised it was empty, and put it down again. ‘I shall wait for you then, at the hotel,’ she said. ‘You won’t be too late, will you? You won’t keep me in suspense for too long?’

Collis didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say until he’d talked to Walter. The waiter came up with his white towel slung over his shoulder and demanded laconically, ‘Through?’ and Collis gave him a shrug which probably meant yes.

An hour later, in the oak-panelled offices of Pacific Mail, he stood by the window of the waiting-room, gazing out over a triangular view of Montgomery Street, and waiting, as Hannah was waiting for him, for his appointment with Horace Johnson. He had already smoked two cheroots, to the annoyance of the stiff-bosomed receptionist, and he was thinking about a third.

As three o’clock struck, however, Horace Johnson’s door opened, and Horace himself appeared, a big, broad example of San Francisco’s most robust eaters and drinkers. He was ruddy, white-whiskered, with a pair of mean pince-nez clipped into the fruity flesh of his nose. He waved Collis inside as if he were directing traffic.

‘I know why you’re here,’ he said, in a deep, rich voice.

‘Only to further our acquaintance, and our understanding,’ said Collis guardedly. ‘I don’t really expect to win your support.’

Johnson sat down in a huge leather library chair and stuffed his fat fingers together. ‘You expect right, Mr Edmonds, I’ve already spoken to that flash partner of yours, the one with the chequered suit. And the only reason I’ve taken you up on your suggestion that we meet today is that I want to make my views emphatically clear to all of you, individually — as clear as I damned well can.’

Collis remained standing, his hat in his hand. ‘I appreciate your directness,’ he replied with a sour smile. ‘I’ve heard you’re a blunt man, as well as a big one.’

Johnson stared at him for a moment, and then chuckled. ‘I like your impertinence, Mr Edmonds. I always enjoyed a little impertinence. But mark my words — by the time you’ve lived in this fair city of ours for as long as I have, you too will have a profile to be proud of.’ He patted his stomach as if it were a small boy who had done well at school.

‘I’m going to build a transcontinental railroad, Mr Johnson, and I want it to terminate right here in San Francisco. Will Pacific Mail stand in my way, no matter what?’