With Desnoyers he appeared more
taciturn, working without stopping for hours at a time. As soon as he
saw the manager entering the office he would leap from his seat,
holding himself erect with military precision. He was always ready to
do anything whatever. Unasked, he spied on the workmen, reporting their
carelessness and mistakes. This last service did not especially please
his superior officer, but he appreciated it as a sign of interest in the
establishment.
The old man bragged triumphantly of the new acquisition, urging his
son-in-law also to rejoice.
"A very useful fellow, isn't he? . . . These gringoes from Germany
work well, know a good many things and cost little. Then, too, so
disciplined! so servile! . . . I am sorry to praise him so to you
because you are a Frenchy, and your nation has in them a very powerful
enemy. His people are a hard-shelled race."
Desnoyers replied with a shrug of indifference. His country was far
away, and so was Germany. Who knew if they would ever return! . . . They
were both Argentinians now, and ought to interest themselves in present
affairs and not bother about the past.
"And how little pride they have!" sneered Madariaga in an ironical tone.
"Every one of these gringoes when he is a clerk at the Capital sweeps
the shop, prepares the meals, keeps the books, sells to the customers,
works the typewriter, translates four or five languages, and dances
attendance on the proprietor's lady friend, as though she were a grand
senora .
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