To him they all appeared his
superiors. It was a period of economic crisis; for the time being, the
rich also were experiencing what it was to be poor and worried; the
banks had suspended operations and were paying only a small part of
their deposits. For some weeks the millionaire was deprived of his
wealth, and felt restless before the uncertain future. How long would it
be before they could send him money from South America? Was war going to
take away fortunes as well as lives? . . . And yet Desnoyers had never
appreciated money less, nor disposed of it with greater generosity.
Numberless mobilized men of the lower classes who were going alone
toward the station met a gentleman who would timidly stop them, put
his hand in his pocket and leave in their right hand a bill of
twenty francs, fleeing immediately before their astonished eyes. The
working-women who were returning weeping from saying good-bye to their
husbands saw this same gentleman smiling at the children who were with
them, patting their cheeks and hastening away, leaving a five-franc
piece in their hands.
Don Marcelo, who had never smoked, was now frequenting the tobacco
shops, coming out with hands and pockets filled in order that he might,
with lavish generosity, press the packages upon the first soldier he
met. At times the recipient, smiling courteously, would thank him with a
few words, revealing his superior breeding--afterwards passing the gift
on to others clad in cloaks as coarse and badly cut as his own.
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