And
mark me,"--he paused effectively with a lifted forefinger,--"it will be
Claude Martel who gives her her heart's desire. For years I have fostered
in her a love for the drama. I have taken her to see great plays. I have
taught her to read great lines, and above all I have fed her ambition.
The time was limited--a night here, a day there; but I planted a seed
they cannot kill. It has grown, it will flower; no one can stop it now."
The subject was one upon which Quin would fain have discoursed
indefinitely, but a glance at his watch reminded him that the business of
the day did not admit of further delay. He not only had an important
errand to perform, but he must look for work. His exchequer, as usual,
was very low and the need for replenishing it was imperative.
When he reached Bartlett & Bangs' on the outskirts of the city, the big
manufacturing plant was ominously still. The only sign of life about the
place was at the wide entrance doors at the end of the yards, where a
group of men were talking and gesticulating excitedly.
"What's the shindy?" Quin asked a bystander.
"Union men trying to keep scabs from going to work," answered his
informant.
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