The Relentless CityBenson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
General
The Relentless City
Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
British -- United States -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Upper class -- Fiction
'What reason do you give me?' she asked. 'You used to be quite friendly
with her last autumn.'
'Quite true; but I am not now.'
'Have you seen her since?' asked Amelie, not quite recognising from
what that question really sprang.
'No, I have not.'
He paused.
'Why did you ask that?' he said quietly.
'It was a reasonable question,' she said. 'Mrs. Emsworth is a friend of
mine too; I have every right to ask her to the house, unless you give
me good reason.'
'I ask you not to exercise that right,' said Bertie.
Suddenly, and almost audibly in its distinctness, Amelie's mind said
to her, 'We are quarrelling.' Her love for him, frightened, ran, as it
were, towards him, but stumbled over her pride. She did not answer him,
but left the room, feeling sick at heart.
CHAPTER XVI
The construction of the intermediate pieces of line which were to
connect Liverpool with Southampton by a direct route were finished
by July, and, running powers over the lines of other existing
companies having been acquired, the new service was open for traffic
by the beginning of August. As Mr. Palmer had foreseen, the immense
saving of time and convenience of transport effected by this direct
linking together of the two ports had been, as soon as the Bill for
the projected line had passed the Houses of Parliament, instantly
recognised by the various fleets that used these ports, and its success
was assured long before its completion. Added to this, the economical
and businesslike methods of running trains which were adopted by him,
based on American systems, enabled the line to cut down rates, while it
secured for its customers far more rapid transport, so that it obtained
from the first practically a monopoly of the goods traffic between
the ports. A quantity of gentlemen, who in some vague sort of manner
considered that they were acting in the sacred name of patriotism,
wrote hundreds of violent letters to the papers, protesting against
this fresh American invasion; while others, equally vaguely, in the
sacred name of Art, ranted themselves hoarse over the steel-girder
budges that desecrated the most lovely spots in the rural fortresses of
England, and the black, squat, but eminently efficient, engines that
drew the trains of unlovely merchandise. But this _vox_, _et præterea
nihil_, soon died away, and the only influence it had on traffic was
perhaps to call added attention to the eminent advantages enjoyed by
the customers of Mr. Palmer's line. Consequently, neither he nor they
had any quarrel with it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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