"
The girl held herself firmly. "Remember John Grier has made a great name
for himself--as great in his way as Andrew Carnegie or Pierpont Morgan--
and he's got pride in his name. He wants his son to carry it on, and in
a way he's right."
"That's good argument," said Carnac, "but if his name isn't strong enough
to carry itself, his son can't carry it for him. That's the way of life.
How many sons have ever added to their father's fame? The instances are
very few. In the modern world, I can only think of the Pitts in England.
There's no one else."
The girl now smiled again. The best part in her was stirred. She saw.
Her mind changed. After a moment she said: "I think you're altogether
right about it. Carnac, you have your own career to make, so make it
as it best suits yourself. I'm sorry I spoke to your father as I did.
I pitied him, and I thought you'd find scope for your talents in the
business. It's a big game, but I see now it isn't yours, Carnac."
He nodded, smiling. "That's it; that's it, I hate the whole thing."
She shook hands. As his hand enclosed her long slim fingers, he felt he
wished never to let them go, they were so thrilling; but he did, for the
thought of Luzanne came to his mind.
"Good-bye, Junia, and don't forget that John Grier's firm is the foe of
the Belloc business," he said satirically.
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