“Monsieur George has been reading ‘Penguin Island,’ ha, ha! He is right; we cannot have our villages full of naked angels. But where are you going to put your workmen?”
“Tents or huts.”
“And feed them? We have our own organization, but we can’t feed your fellows.”
“I have not asked you to, have I? I did not start business yesterday; I have my scheme just as you have yours.”
“And you have managed to buy machinery?”
“Should I go out without my trousers?”
Anatole and the priest left the “Elephant” standing coarsely on his dignity outside the gate of the factory. They walked back arm in arm to the Place de l’Eglise.
“My dear friend,” said Durand, “M. George is behaving like a reasonable and enterprising citizen. What good will it do to us or Beaucourt to quarrel with him? I think we are in danger of becoming a couple of sentimentalists.”
“God forgive the reasonable people,” said Monsieur Lefèbre. “It was the devilry of common-sense that killed the child in man.”