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Updated: June 2, 2025
Lightener's arms, but scant comfort in her words, yet they would remain with Ruth and she would find comfort in them later. Now she heard Malcolm Lightener speaking to her husband. "You be good to that little girl, young man," he said. "Be mighty patient and gentle with her." She waited for Bonbright's reply. "I love her," she heard Bonbright say in a low voice.
She ignored bell and speaking tube and ran upstairs to Bonbright's door, on which she knocked as a warning. Then she opened the door and called: "It's me. Anybody home?" Nobody replied. She called again, and walked into the little living room where Ruth and Bonbright and Dulac had faced one another an hour before.... She called again.
He fought as strength was given him to fight, but they carried him ungently and hurled him asprawl upon the floor of a patrol wagon, already well occupied by arrests from the mob. "Git 'em to the station," the driver was ordered, and off lurched the patrol wagon. That rapid ride brought cooling to Bonbright's head. He had made a fool of himself.
Men blunder woefully in their relations with women, not because of innate boorishness in the sex, not because of willful brashness, but because of lack of understanding. They mean well, but their performance is deplorable.... In that moment Bonbright's most valuable possession was a certain intuition, a fineness, a decency, a reserve, a natural modesty.
"I've got to think about something else...." But his will was unequal to the performance.... "Where is she?... Where is she?.." The question, the DEMAND, repeated itself over and over and over. There was a chance that a specialist, a professional, might find traces of Ruth where Bonbright's untrained eyes missed them altogether.
"I didn't stop you to argue about capital and labor. I stopped you to tell you the truth about to-night. I've told it." "You've lied the way your kind always lies." Bonbright's lips straightened, his eyes hardened, and he leaned forward. "I promised Miss Frazer nothing should happen. It sha'n't. ... But you're a fool, Dulac.
It seemed to Bonbright that Dulac had been in the room for hours, had taken hours to cross it to his desk. Now only the desk separated them, and Dulac bent forward, rested his clenched fists on the desk, and held Bonbright's eyes with the fire of his own.... His body moved now, bending from the waist.
The men had experienced it; had felt the weight of Bonbright's ruthless hand.... How could he make them believe it was not his hand? How could he make them believe that the measures taken to crush the strike had not been his measures; that they had been carried out under his name but against his will? It sounded absurd even to himself. Nobody would believe it.
"Mother, we might as well understand each other at once. I am not Bonbright Foote VII. Let that be clear. I am Bonbright Foote. I am myself, an individual. The old way of doing things is gone.... Perhaps you have heard of the family law the first Bonbright's will. ... I have just torn it up." She compressed her lips and regarded him with hostility. Then she shrugged her shoulders.
Bonbright's part in that was enough to keep one man occupied, for, however much he might leave to Mershon, there were countless details that he must decide; innumerable points to be referred to him and discussed.
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