Patience, her eyes filled with tears, her hands nervously clutching her ’kerchief, walked up to the angry man.
“I am sorry for you,” she said, “just as I always used to be sorry for my poor father when he was drunk as you are now with your own anger. You know that I am a fitting mate for your son. I don’t understand your enmity unless it’s because we’re not rich like you.”
Harry caught Patience in his arms. “Remember, it makes no difference to me what my father says. I’m a man and able to choose my own wife.” He looked at his father. “We are going now,” he said firmly.
There was no reply.
The door closed behind his son. John Boland staggered to a couch and falling down beside it buried his face in his arms.
CHAPTER XXV
THE INTERESTS VERSUS MARY RANDALL
If John Boland was shaken by the interview with his son, there was no evidence of it in his bearing when he appeared at the offices of the Electric Trust the following morning. As he took his accustomed place at his desk he looked tired, but he wore what La Salle street knew as his fighting face.