But the house soon filled up, for Lewis was always known to be in during
the morning. Clients, Stock Exchange runners, commission agents and
brokers began to arrive. The telephone rang continuously in a sharp
querulous way, punctuated by the alphabetic hail of typewriters. A
private exchange was installed at the head of his bed, keeping him in
touch with his offices, his engineers, his desk at the Bourse. (When he
woke late he could listen to the tidal sound of buying and selling from
the depths of his bed clothes.) All this agitation, this modern comfort,
this life of violence, of expenditure of nervous energy and of
speculation was in curious contrast with the portly seventeenth-century
mansion in a leafy road on the Rive Gauche. Through the windows a Le
Nôtre garden unfolded itself, restored in every detail (even to a
reinforced concrete pergola) by the actual owners, who were Mexicans.
The trees and artificial lakes were blue with frost, for it was
mid-winter. There was nothing to remind one of Sicily but some labelled
samples of sulphur in a bowl, and occasional patches of ultramarine in
the sky.
Lewis was dictating from his bed, laying down the facts of some disputed
question.
"I am only an amateur, really," he used to say. "I don't work to 'woo
the fickle goddess Fortune' or to be a 'money baron' or any of the other
Yellow Press expressions. I work to amuse myself. Negotiating loans
amuses me more than yachting, and floating companies more than playing
poker. That's all it is."
Lewis did not lay the results of his journey to Sicily before the
directors of the Franco-African. Obstinately, in accordance with his
first idea, he got together the necessary capital and floated a limited
company on his own account; the share certificates were being printed.
As soon as they were fully issued he would have them quoted on the Paris
Bourse; in a year they would be quoted at Trieste and in New York. A
whole army of technical men, chemists, mechanics, etc., was on its way
out. Lewis counted on work being seriously begun at San Lucido by the
end of the month.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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