Some one must dominate.
There must be a supremacy. And what would this growing hostility lead
to? What would future inventions do to exacerbate it? What of the steam
engine, what of machinery, what of unknown developments?
I could not help but think of the bearing that all of this had on my own
life.
But finally as they paid for their dinner, lighted cigars, and became
less energetic of mood, one asked the other: "Have you ever heard from
the girl?" The reply was: "Not a word. How could I? I didn't leave my
name. It was best to close the matter by leaving no trace of myself."
And the first asked: "Wasn't your name on the draft?" "I had gold, a bag
of gold. I simply turned it over to the new husband and went my way."
I was all ears now, studying, too, the face of the man who was
confessing to the bag of gold. Was there a trace of Zoe in him? I could
not be sure. I seemed to see something about the eyes, but it faded
under my scrutiny. At best this man was only Zoe's grandfather; and my
father's blood was nearer to Zoe than his.
They started to arise from the table. I wished to follow them. But I had
not paid for my meal. I beckoned to a waiter. While he was coming the
two planters strolled leisurely from the cafe arm in arm and in intimate
conversation.
I was hurrying to be away and to follow them--I scarcely knew why.
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