"If we asked him to be seated and wait," said he, "Lightener would burst into the dining room."
They found their visitor not seated, but standing like a granite monolith in the center of the library.
"Well," he said, observing no formalities of greeting, "you've chucked a brick into the hornets' nest."
"Won't you be seated?" asked Mr. Foote, with dignified courtesy.
"Seated? No, I've got no time for seats, and neither have you, if you would wake up to it. Do you know what you've done with your bullheadedness? You've rammed the automobile manufacturers up against a crisis they've been dodging for years. Needlessly. There was no more need for this strike at this time than there is for fur overcoats in hell. But just when the hornets were stirred up and buzzing, you had to heave your brick…. And now we've got to back your play."
"I am not aware," said Mr. Foote, icily, "that we have asked assistance."
"If the house next to mine catches fire the owner doesn't have to holler to me for help. I've got to help to keep the blaze from spreading to my own house…. You've never thought beyond the boundaries of Bonbright Foote, Incorporated—that's what's the matter with you. You're hidebound. A blind man could see the unions look at this thing as their entering wedge into the automobile industry. If they break into you they'll break into us. So we've got to stop 'em short."
"If we need any help—" Mr. Foote began.
"Whether you need it or whether you want it," said Lightener, "you get it."
"Let me point out to you," said Mr. Foote, with chilly courtesy, "that my family has been able to manage its business for several generations—with some small success…. Our relations with our employees are our own concern, and we shall tolerate no interference. … I have placed my son in complete charge of this situation, with confidence that he will handle it adequately."