It was the culminating point of a six months' struggle, carried on by the retiring members of the board, to prevent the young Lewis from having a seat on the board when the time came for their re-election. Monsieur Vandémanque loathed this bold iconoclast with his ill-breeding, vanity and the haphazard methods of a financial dabbler.
After the reading of the directors' report, Lewis got up very sedately, and mercilessly criticized the previous year's management, particularly with regard to current accounts and the use made of the reserve, and, after casually breaking it to them that he held about three times as many shares as they imagined, announced his intention of entering a protest denouncing the resolutions submitted to the two last meetings as being irregular.
Lewis sat down in the midst of a horrified audience, composed of intelligent, respectable men, who, the associates of other respectable people, always shrank from anything crude or obvious, beneath the limp banner of the words "the correct thing."
They muttered amongst themselves:—"These young fellows must be made to fall into line."
"If that isn't enough for you, the next time I shall not come unsupported," said Lewis out loud.
"Who will you have with you?"
He smiled.
"... Proof."
"The Franco-African is and will always be a house of crystal."
"Then it will break."