"Carnac's
got brains enough, but he goes monkeying about with pictures and statues
till he's worth naught in the business of life."
"I don't think you understand him," the girl replied. "I've been trying
to understand him for twenty-five years," the other said malevolently.
"He might have been a big man. He might have bossed this business when
I'm gone. It's in him, but he's a fly-away--he's got no sense. The ideas
he's got make me sick. He talks like a damn fool sometimes."
"But if he's a 'damn fool'--is it strange?" She gaily tossed a kiss at
the king of the lumber world. "The difference between you and him is
this: he doesn't care about the things of this world, and you do; but
he's one of the ablest men in Canada. If Fabian won't come back, why not
Carnac?"
"We've never hit it off."
Suddenly he stood up, his face flushed, his hands outthrust themselves in
rage, his fingers opened and shut in abandonment of temper.
"Why have I two such sons!" he exclaimed. "I've not been bad. I've
squeezed a few; I've struck here and there; I've mauled my enemies, but
I've been good to my own. Why can't I run square with my own family?" He
was purple to the roots of his hair.
Savagery possessed him.
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