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It
had
been
followed
by
a
few
cocktails
at
the
home
of
Orren
Boyle
,
with
only
one
unobtrusive
gentleman
from
Argentina
sitting
silently
in
a
corner
,
while
two
executives
from
Washington
and
a
few
friends
of
unspecified
positions
had
talked
about
national
resources
,
metallurgy
,
mineralogy
,
neighborly
duties
and
the
welfare
of
the
globe
—
and
had
mentioned
that
a
loan
of
four
billion
dollars
would
be
granted
within
three
weeks
to
the
People
’
s
State
of
Argentina
and
the
People
’
s
State
of
Chile
.
It
had
been
followed
by
a
small
cocktail
party
in
a
private
room
of
the
bar
built
like
a
cellar
on
the
roof
of
a
skyscraper
,
an
informal
party
given
by
him
,
James
Taggart
,
for
the
directors
of
a
recently
formed
company
,
The
Interneighborly
Amity
and
Development
Corporation
,
of
which
Orren
Boyle
was
president
and
a
slender
,
graceful
,
overactive
man
from
Chile
was
treasurer
,
a
man
whose
name
was
Senor
Mario
Martinez
,
but
whom
Taggart
was
tempted
,
by
some
resemblance
of
spirit
,
to
call
Senor
Cuffy
Meigs
.
Here
they
had
talked
about
golf
,
horse
races
,
boat
races
,
automobiles
and
women
.
It
had
not
been
necessary
to
mention
,
since
they
all
knew
it
,
that
the
Interneighborly
Amity
and
Development
Corporation
had
an
exclusive
contract
to
operate
,
on
a
twenty
-
year
"
managerial
lease
,
"
all
the
industrial
properties
of
the
People
’
s
States
of
the
Southern
Hemisphere
.
The
last
event
of
the
day
had
been
a
large
dinner
reception
at
the
home
of
Senor
Rodrigo
Gonzales
,
a
diplomatic
representative
of
Chile
.
No
one
had
heard
of
Senor
Gonzales
a
year
ago
,
but
he
had
become
famous
for
the
parties
he
had
given
in
the
past
six
months
,
ever
since
his
arrival
in
New
York
.
His
guests
described
him
as
a
progressive
businessman
.
He
had
lost
his
property
—
it
was
said
—
when
Chile
,
becoming
a
People
’
s
State
,
had
nationalized
all
properties
,
except
those
belonging
to
citizens
of
backward
,
non
-
People
’
s
countries
,
such
as
Argentina
;
but
he
had
adopted
an
enlightened
attitude
and
had
joined
the
new
regime
,
placing
himself
in
the
service
of
his
country
.
His
home
in
New
York
occupied
an
entire
floor
of
an
exclusive
residential
hotel
.
He
had
a
fat
,
blank
face
and
the
eyes
of
a
killer
.
Watching
him
at
tonight
’
s
reception
,
Taggart
had
concluded
that
the
man
was
impervious
to
any
sort
of
feeling
,
he
looked
as
if
a
knife
could
slash
,
unnoticed
,
through
his
pendulous
layers
of
flesh
—
except
that
there
was
a
lewd
,
almost
sexual
relish
in
the
way
he
rubbed
his
feet
against
the
rich
pile
of
his
Persian
rugs
,
or
patted
the
polished
arm
of
his
chair
,
or
folded
his
lips
about
a
cigar
.
His
wife
,
the
Senora
Gonzales
,
was
a
small
,
attractive
woman
,
not
as
beautiful
as
she
assumed
,
but
enjoying
the
reputation
of
a
beauty
by
means
of
a
violent
nervous
energy
and
an
odd
manner
of
loose
,
warm
,
cynical
self
-
assertiveness
that
seemed
to
promise
anything
and
to
absolve
anyone
.
It
was
known
that
her
particular
brand
of
trading
was
her
husband
’
s
chief
asset
,
in
an
age
when
one
traded
,
not
goods
,
but
favors
—
and
,
watching
her
among
the
guests
,
Taggart
had
found
amusement
in
wondering
what
deals
had
been
made
,
what
directives
issued
,
what
industries
destroyed
in
exchange
for
a
few
chance
nights
,
which
most
of
those
men
had
had
no
reason
to
seek
and
,
perhaps
,
could
no
longer
remember
.
The
party
had
bored
him
,
there
had
been
only
half
a
dozen
persons
for
whose
sake
he
had
put
in
an
appearance
,
and
it
had
not
been
necessary
to
speak
to
that
half
-
dozen
,
merely
to
be
seen
and
to
exchange
a
few
glances
.
Dinner
had
been
about
to
be
served
,
when
he
had
heard
what
he
had
come
to
hear
:
Senor
Gonzales
had
mentioned
—
the
smoke
of
his
cigar
weaving
over
the
half
-
dozen
men
who
had
drifted
toward
his
armchair
—
that
by
agreement
with
the
future
People
’
s
State
of
Argentina
,
the
properties
of
d
’
Anconia
Copper
would
be
nationalized
by
the
People
’
s
State
of
Chile
,
in
less
than
a
month
,
on
September
2
.
It
had
all
gone
as
Taggart
had
expected
;
the
unexpected
had
come
when
,
on
hearing
those
words
,
he
had
felt
an
irresistible
urge
to
escape
.
He
had
felt
incapable
of
enduring
the
boredom
of
the
dinner
,
as
if
some
other
form
of
activity
were
needed
to
greet
the
achievement
of
this
night
.
He
had
walked
out
into
the
summer
twilight
of
the
streets
,
feeling
as
if
he
were
both
pursuing
and
pursued
:
pursuing
a
pleasure
which
nothing
could
give
him
,
in
celebration
of
a
feeling
which
he
dared
not
name
—
pursued
by
the
dread
of
discovering
what
motive
had
moved
him
through
the
planning
of
tonight
’
s
achievement
and
what
aspect
of
it
now
gave
him
this
feverish
sense
of
gratification
.
He
reminded
himself
that
he
would
sell
his
d
’
Anconia
Copper
stock
,
which
had
never
rallied
fully
after
its
crash
of
last
year
,
and
he
would
purchase
shares
of
the
Inter
-
neighborly
Amity
and
Development
Corporation
,
as
agreed
with
his
friends
,
which
would
bring
him
a
fortune
.
But
the
thought
brought
him
nothing
but
boredom
;
this
was
not
the
thing
he
wanted
to
celebrate
.
