He never spoke, if being could do what he wanted. He
had the sense of physical speech with out words. He was a bold
adventurer, but his methods were those of the subtlest. If a motion of
the hand was sufficient, then let it go at that.
"You people after our votes never come any other time," sneeringly said
Eugene Grandois, as Carnac and Fabian landed. "It's only when you want to
use us."
"Would you rather I didn't come at all?" asked Carnac with a friendly
smile. "You can't have it both ways. If I came here any other time you'd
want to know why I didn't stay away, and I come now because it's good you
should know if I'm fit to represent you in Parliament."
"There's sense, my bonny boy," said an English-Canadian labourer standing
near. "What you got to say to that, little skeezicks?" he added teasingly
to Eugene Grandois.
"He ain't got more gifts than his father had, and we all know what he
was--that's so, bagosh!" remarked Grandois viciously.
"Well, what sort of a man was he?" asked Carnac cooly, with a warning
glance at Fabian, who was resentful. Indeed, Fabian would have struck the
man if his brother had not been present, and then been torn to pieces
himself.
"What sort--don't you know the kind of things he done? If you don't, I
do, and there's lots of others know, and don't you forget it, mon vieux.
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