“You can take my father’s name down.”
“If you liquidate the business now, it will mean disaster.”
“I have no interest in it. I am leaving New York.”
Then Waldbridge broke down. It was terrible, a long-established, respected firm—wreckage—pure wreckage; that word seemed to have a fatal significance in Martin’s life.
“Can I count on, say, ten thousand a year for ten years?”
Julie was luxuriously inclined, because her heart had been empty. He would take her away from cities; they would live somewhere quietly in the country.
Waldbridge smiled. “You can always have that and more if you want it.”
Then Martin did a wonderful thing, so wonderful it left Waldbridge speechless, staring at him. Was the man mad? There was a taint of insanity in the family.
Martin read his thoughts.
“I’m thirty-two years old, and I know what I am doing. I want you to turn this business into a company; every man in it, from the lowest to the highest, must have his share. You, of course, will be the head of the firm. Get a good lawyer and do it legally. You’ll have your work, every mother’s son of you, to get the old hulk out of the mud; if you do, you’re entitled to the spoils.”