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Updated: June 7, 2025
The very thought of Louis Akers looking at her as he had seen him look at Edith Boyd made him cold with rage. "Do you mind if I say something?" "That sounds disagreeable. Is it?" "Maybe, but I'm going to anyhow, Lily. I don't like to think of you seeing Akers. I don't know anything against him, and I suppose if I did I wouldn't tell you. But he is not your sort."
As prayer in his mind was indissolubly connected with church, he made up his mind to go to church the next Sunday and get matters straightened out. At the same time another group was meeting at the Benedict. Louis Akers had gone home early. By five o'clock he knew that the chances were against him, but he felt a real lethargy as to the outcome.
His hands were clenched again, and Akers eyed him warily. "None of that," he cautioned. "I don't know what interest you've got in this, and I don't give a God-damn. But you'd better not try any funny business with me." Willy Cameron smiled. Much the sort of smile he had worn during the rioting.
A little education, and it is just possible " "Get Olga. I'm no kindergarten teacher." "You haven't seen her in the light yet." Louis Akers smiled and carefully settled his tie. Like Doyle, Akers loved the game of life, and he liked playing for high stakes. He had joined forces with Doyle because the game was dangerous and exciting, rather than because of any real conviction.
In among these crowds of country people walk stately Mohammedans, Mandingoes, Akers, and Fulahs of the Arabised tribes of the Western Soudan. These are lithe, well-made men, and walk with a peculiarly fine, elastic carriage.
"Because this neighborhood is unlikely to have a cab stand? You were entirely right. But I can see that you won't like my idealistic community. You see, in it everybody will have enough, and nobody will have too much." "Don't take him too seriously, Miss Cardew," said Akers, bending forward. "You and I know that there isn't such a thing as too much."
"I think I would, Mr. Akers," she said honestly. Had she ever known a man like the one beside her, she would not have given him that opportunity. He glanced sharply around, and then suddenly stopped the car and turned toward her. "I'm crazy about you, and you know it," he said. And roughly, violently, he caught her to him and kissed her again and again.
Woslosky did not like Louis Akers. What was more important, he distrusted him. When he heard of his engagement to Lily Cardew he warned Doyle about him. "He's in this thing for what he can get out of it," he said. "He'll go as far as he can, with safety, to be accepted by the Cardews." "Exactly," was Doyle's dry comment, "with safety, you said.
He had a fascinating theory of individualism, too; no man should impose his will and no community its laws, on the individual. Laws were for slaves. Ethics were better than laws, to control. "Although," he added, urbanely, "I daresay it might be difficult to convert Mr. Anthony Cardew to such a belief." While Louis Akers saw Lily to her taxicab that night Doyle stood in the hall, waiting.
In her excitement she called the housemaid, an Englishwoman with whom she had made friends, and she copied the will while they were together, and the names of Akers and Stock of whom she could not possibly have heard are in her copy.
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