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It seemed as if everything his father had desired him to do was interdicted in Malcolm Lightener's vast organization; everything that had been taboo before was required of him now. He was asked to think; he was taught to make his individuality felt; he was encouraged to suggest and to exercise his intelligence independently.
As the car stopped at Malcolm Lightener's door, sudden panic seized Bonbright. "I ought not to come here," he said, "after last night. Mrs. Lightener... your daughter." "I'll bet Hilda's worrying you more than her mother. Nonsense! They both got sense." Certainly Mrs. Lightener had. "Just got him out of the police station," her husband said as he led the uncomfortable Bonbright into her presence.
At first meeting she seemed only a gray-haired, shy, silent sort of person, not to be spoken of by herself as Mrs. Lightener, but in the reflected rays of her husband, as Malcolm Lightener's wife. But Malcolm Lightener he dominated the room as the Laocoon group would dominate a ten by twelve "parlor." His size was only a minor element in that impression.
The thought of wedding breakfast or of festivities of any sort had been repugnant to Ruth, and Hilda had not insisted. They were alone. Ruth lay back against the soft upholstery of Malcolm Lightener's limousine, colorless, eyes closed. Bonbright watched her face hungrily, scrutinizing it for some sign of happiness, for some vestige of feeling that reciprocated his own.
In Lightener's plant he saw lathes which roughed and finished in one process and one handling. In his own plant castings must pass from one machine to another, and through the hands of extra and unnecessary employees. It was economic waste. But he offered no suggestion. He saw time lost here, labor lavished there, but he was indifferent. He knew better.
It was characteristic of Lightener that the room in the house which was peculiarly his own was called by him his office, not his den, not the library.... There were two interests in Lightener's life his family and his business, and he stirred them together in a quaintly granite sort of way. For the second time that evening Bonbright stood hesitating in a doorway.
The strain, the anxiety, a sleepless night of suffering and the struggle she had undergone to find the answer to Bonbright's question had tried her to the depths of her soul. Now she gave quite away and, unwillingly enough, sobbed and mumbled on Hilda Lightener's shoulder, and clung to the larger girl pitifully, as a frightened baby clings to its mother.
She turned and fled to her room and locked the door. Though he knocked and called, though he pleaded and threatened, she made no reply, but sat dry-eyed, on her bed, until she heard him go away raging.... Hilda Lightener's electric stopped before the apartment house where Bonbright Foote lived, and Hilda alighted.
"Only that she is living in their apartment, and he is boarding with one of the men in his department at Lightener's." "Keep your eye on him, Rangar keep your eye on him. And report." "Yes, sir," said Rangar, not himself pleased by the turn affairs had taken, but resolved to have what benefit might lie thereabouts. His resentment was still keen to keep him snapping at Bonbright's heels.
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