He had always had a great liking for Laurier.
That instinctive bond which exists between men of industry, patient and
silent, had made them very congenial. At the senator's receptions he
had always talked with the engineer about the progress of his business,
interesting himself in the development of that factory of which he
always spoke with the affection of a father. The millionaire, in
spite of his reputation for miserliness, had even volunteered his
disinterested support if at any time it should become necessary to
enlarge the plant. And it was this good man's happiness that his son, a
frivolous and useless dancer, was going to steal! . . .
At first Laurier spoke of a duel. His wrath was that of a work horse who
breaks the tight reins of his laboring outfit, tosses his mane, neighs
wildly and bites. The father was greatly distressed at the possibility
of such an outcome. . . . One scandal more! Julio had dedicated the
greater part of his existence to the handling of arms.
"He will kill the poor man!" he said to the senator. "I am sure that he
will kill him. It is the logic of life; the good-for-nothing always kill
those who amount to anything."
But there was no killing. The Father of the Republic knew how to handle
the clashing parties, with the same skill that he always employed in
the corridors of the Senate during a ministerial crisis.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156