find the crazy boy and try to bring him to his senses. Such were the duties you got in for when
you chose a lovely French lady for your
Lanny said no; he had tried to influence both boys, and had failed, and now he was out of
politics; he had made a promise to his wife. He listened to the innermost secrets of
baker's son, who had just become Premier, the fourth within a year; what interests had
subsidized his career, and what noble lady had become his mistress. He learned about Chiappe,
chief of the Paris police, a Corsican known as "the little Napoleon"—he was five feet three inches,
and had just been "fired" for being too intimate with Stavisky. He had known all the wholesale
crooks, the blackmailers and Jewish
his son-in-law, publisher of one of the great gutter-journals of Paris.
Lanny observed that the individuals who awakened the anger and disgust of Denis de Bruyne
were the climbers, those struggling for Wealth and power to which they had no valid claim. He
rarely had any serious fault to find with the
families" who had had wealth and power for a long time. They had to pay large sums of money
in these evil days, and the basis of Denis's complaint was not the corruption but the
increasing cost. The politicians demanded larger campaign funds, and at the same time kept
increasing taxes; their idea of economy was to cut the salaries of civil servants—which Denis had
discovered was bad for the taxicab business. To make matters worse, the taxicab drivers were on
strike! Robbie listened sympathetically, and when his friend got through scolding Daladier,
Robbie took a turn at Roosevelt.
VII
Next day Lanny escorted his wife to the Summer Fashion Show. This wasn't a public affair,
but one for the trade; an exhibition of the new styles which the manufacturers intended soon
to release. Irma was invited as a special honor by the fashion artist to whom she entrusted her
social destiny. Lanny went along because, if she endeavored to take an interest in his things,
it was only fair that he should do the same for hers. They sat in a hall with many potted palms,
gazing at a long ramp with dark blue curtains behind it; along the ramp paraded beautiful
and
atmosphere—the journalists groped about for a metaphor. There were bamboo buttons and
coolie hats; the ladies' gowns had fan-tails like Japanese goldfish, the afternoon costumes had
cut sleeves like kimonos, and the evening wraps had designs resembling Japanese flower
prints.
Among the favored guests at this show was an old friend of Lanny's; Olivie Hellstein, now
Madame de Broussailles, very lovely daughter of Jerusalem whom Emily had picked out as a
proper match for Lanny. That had been some eight years ago, and now Olivie had three or four
children, and had become what you called "maternal," a kinder word than "plump." Words
which have an unpleasant connotation change frequently in the best society, where people try
so hard not to wound one another's feelings.
Olivie was a woman of Irma's type, a brunette with deep coloring, in temperament rather
placid, in manner sedate. They had entertained each other, exchanged visits, and satisfied their
curiosity. Now they talked about having to wear summer clothing with a strong Japanese
flavor, or note, or atmosphere; they would have to wear it, of course—it would never occur to
them to rebel against what the fashion creators decided was the fashion.
Lanny, wishing to be polite, remarked: "We were talking about your family last night. My
father is having a meeting with your father."
"A business matter?" inquired Olivie.
"Mine is trying to persuade yours that he can deliver certain railroad equipment at Brest at a
lower price than it can be manufactured in France."
"It will be pleasant if they become associated," replied the young matron. "My father has a
great admiration for American production methods, and wishes they might be imported into
France."
Pierre Hellstein was a director in the Chemin de Fer du Nord, and controlled one of the
biggest banks in Paris. Robbie had asked Denis about him, and they had discussed this wealthy
Jewish family spread widely over Europe; also the position of the railroad, reputed to be run
down and overloaded with bonds. The Hellsteins didn't have to worry, because the government
covered its deficits; there had been criticism in the Chamber—the French Republic was going
broke in order to protect the railroad bondholders. Denis de Bruyne, who owned some of the
bonds, resented these criticisms as irresponsible and demagogic. As for Olivie, beautiful,
serene, magnificent in a long sable coat, she was perfect evidence of the wisdom of guaranteeing
