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That was the closest she came to opening her heart. She did have to think, though she had thought and reasoned and suffered the torture of mental conflict through a nearly sleepless night. She had told Bonbright to come on this day for her answer.... She must have her answer ready. Also she must talk the thing over with Dulac. That would be hard doubly hard in the situation that existed.
"You mean that this man Hammil was hurt through our fault?" "I'm afraid a jury would say so." The young man explained the accident in detail. "He complained about the condition of his machine, and his foreman told him he could stick to his job there or quit." "Forced him to work on an unsafe machine or quit?" "Yes." Bonbright stared at his blotter a moment. "What did you want to see me about?"
Bitterness increased until it was rage, and, as man is so constituted that rage must have a definite object, Dulac unconsciously sought a man who would symbolize all the forces that had defeated him and he chose Bonbright Foote. He chose Bonbright the more readily because he hated the boy for personal reasons.
"There'll be rioting," he said. "Probably there'll be bloodshed. There'll certainly be a devil of a lot of suffering. Your father is putting the responsibility for it on your shoulders, young fellow. Does that set comfortably on your mind?" Bonbright was slow to answer. His position was difficult, for it seemed to him he was being asked by a stranger to criticize his father and his family.
Lightener was angry angry because Bonbright's father had rejected his proposition to manufacture engines; more angry at the way Mr. Foote had spoken concerning his son. In the back of Lightener's mind was the thought that he would show a Foote.... Just what he would show him was not determined. Bonbright came in. He was not the Bonbright of six months before.
Bonbright stood at one side of her bed, Dulac stood across from him, but they were unconscious of each other. Both were looking downward upon Ruth. She opened her eyes, saw Bonbright standing over her; shut them again and moved her head impatiently. Again she opened her eyes, and looked from Bonbright to Dulac. Her lips parted, her eyes widened... She pointed a trembling finger at Dulac.
"Thought them overalls wasn't long off the shelf. You done a good job, though, considerin'." Bonbright blushed. "Where you been workin'?" How was Bonbright to answer? He couldn't tell the truth without shaming himself in this man's eyes, and all at once he found he greatly desired the good opinion of this workingman and of the other workingmen about him.
It seemed as if they were apprehensive, almost as if they ventured to disagree with the action of their employers. But none voiced his disapproval. Bonbright stood without motion beside his father's desk, his eyes on the floor, his lips pressed together. "There," said his father, with satisfaction, "I think that will set you right."
To such a man she could not have given herself even for the Cause.... Bonbright made his own duping a possibility. "I I sha'n't act this way again," she said, trying to smile. "You needn't be afraid.... It's just nerves." "Poor kid!" he said, softly, but even yet he dared not touch her. "You want me? You're very, very sure you want me? How do you know? I may not be what you think I am.
He was gone longer than he expected, for Bonbright had left on his desk several telegrams concerning the Mexican situation that needed immediate replies. Trick camera in hand, Dick returned by a short cut across the house and patio. The dancing couples were ebbing down the arcade and disappearing into the hall, and he leaned against a pillar and watched them go by.
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