Moneychangers

Upton Sinclair

Description

The more things change, the more they stay the same. One wouldn't think that many of the problems and practices that almost brought the financial industry to the point of destruction over a century ago would still be relevant today, but shockingly, Upton Sinclair's The Moneychangers is still surprisingly applicable. The novel continues the tradition of unflinching realism that Sinclair established in his classic take-down of the meatpacking industry, The Jungle.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 février 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776531752
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE MONEYCHANGERS
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UPTON SINCLAIR
 
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The Moneychangers First published in 1908 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-175-2 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-176-9 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII
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To Jack London
Chapter I
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"I am," said Reggie Mann, "quite beside myself to meet this LucyDupree."
"Who told you about her?" asked Allan Montague.
"Ollie's been telling everybody about her," said Reggie. "It soundsreally wonderful. But I fear he must have exaggerated."
"People seem to develop a tendency to exaggeration," said Montague,"when they talk about Lucy."
"I am in quite a state about her," said Reggie.
Allan Montague looked at him and smiled. There were no visible signsof agitation about Reggie. He had come to take Alice to church, andhe was exquisitely groomed and perfumed, and wore a wonderfulscarlet orchid in his buttonhole. Montague, lounging back in a bigleather chair and watching him, smiled to himself at the thoughtthat Reggie regarded Lucy as a new kind of flower, with which hemight parade down the Avenue and attract attention.
"Is she large or small?" asked Reggie.
"She is about your size," said Montague,—which was very smallindeed.
Alice entered at this moment in a new spring costume. Reggie sprangto his feet, and greeted her with his inevitable effusiveness.
When he asked, "Do you know her, too?"
"Who? Lucy?" asked Alice. "I went to school with her."
"Judge Dupree's plantation was next to ours," said Montague. "We allgrew up together."
"There was hardly a day that I did not see her until she wasmarried," said Alice. "She was married at seventeen, you know—to aman much older than herself."
"We have never seen her since that," added the other. "She has livedin New Orleans."
"And only twenty-two now," exclaimed Reggie. "All the wisdom of awidow and the graces of an ingénue!" And he raised his hands with agesture of admiration.
"Has she got money?" he asked.
"She had enough for New Orleans," was the reply. "I don't know aboutNew York."
"Ah well," he said meditatively, "there's plenty of money lyingabout."
He took Alice away to her devotions, leaving Montague to thememories which the mention of Lucy Dupree awakened.
Allan Montague had been in love with Lucy a half a dozen times inhis life; it had begun when she was a babe in arms, and continuedintermittently until her marriage. Lucy was a beauty of the creoletype, with raven-black hair and gorgeous colouring; and Allancarried with him everywhere the face of joy, with the quick, mobilefeatures across which tears and laughter chased like April showersacross the sky.
Lucy was a tiny creature, as he had said, but she was a well-springof abounding energy. She had been the life of a lonely householdfrom the first hour, and all who came near her yielded to her spell.Allan remembered one occasion when he had entered the house and seenthe grave and venerable chief justice of the State down upon hishands and knees, with Lucy on his back.
She was a born actress, everybody said. When she was no more thanfour, she would lie in bed when she should have been asleep, andtell herself tragic stories to make her weep. Before long she haddiscovered several chests full of the clothes which her mother hadworn in the days when she was a belle of the old plantation society;and then Lucy would have tableaus and theatricals, and wouldastonish all beholders in the role of an Oriental princess or aQueen of the Night.
Her mother had died when she was very young, and she had grown upwith only her father for a companion. Judge Dupree was one of therich men of the neighbourhood, and he lavished everything upon hisdaughter; but people had said that Lucy would suffer for the lack ofa woman's care, and the prophecy had been tragically fulfilled.There had come a man, much older than herself, but with a glamour ofromance about him; and the wonder of love had suddenly revealeditself to Lucy, and swept her away as no emotion had ever donebefore.
One day she disappeared, and Montague had never seen her again. Heknew that she had gone to New Orleans to live, and he heard rumoursthat she was very unhappy, that her husband was a spendthrift and arake. Scarcely a year after her marriage Montague heard the story ofhis death by an accident while driving.
He had heard no more until a short time after his coming to NewYork, when the home papers had reported the death of Judge Dupree.And then a week or so ago had come a letter from Lucy, to hisbrother, Oliver Montague, saying that she was coming to New York,perhaps to live permanently, and asking him to meet her and toengage accommodations for her in some hotel.
Montague wondered what she would be like when he saw her again. Hewondered what five years of suffering and experience would have donefor her; whether it would have weakened her enthusiasm and dried upher springs of joy. Lucy grown serious was something that wasdifficult for him to imagine.
And then again would come a mood of doubt, when he distrusted thethrill which the memory of her brought. Would she be able tomaintain her spell in competition with what life had brought himsince?
His revery was broken by Oliver, who came in to ask him if he wishedto go to meet her. "Those Southern trains are always several hourslate," he said. "I told my man to go over and 'phone me."
"You are to have her in charge," said Montague; "you had better seeher first. Tell her I will come in the evening." And so he went tothe great apartment hotel—the same to which Oliver had originallyintroduced him. And there was Lucy.
She was just the same. He could see it in an instant; there was thesame joyfulness, the same eagerness; there was the same beauty,which had made men's hearts leap up. There was not a line of careupon her features—she was like a perfect flower come to itsfulness.
She came to him with both her hands outstretched. "Allan!" shecried, "Allan! I am so glad to see you!" And she caught his hands inhers and stood and gazed at him. "My, how big you have grown, andhow serious! Isn't he splendid, Ollie?"
Oliver stood by, watching. He smiled drily. "He is a trifle too epicfor me," he said.
"Oh, my, how wonderful it seems to see you!" she exclaimed. "Itmakes me think of fifty things at once. We must sit down and have along talk. It will take me all night to ask you all the questions Ihave to."
Lucy was in mourning for her father, but she had contrived to makeher costume serve as a frame for her beauty. She seemed like aflaming ruby against a background of black velvet. "Tell me how youhave been," she rushed on. "And what has happened to you up here?How is your mother?"
"Just the same," said Montague; "she wants you to come aroundto-morrow morning."
"I will," said Lucy,—"the first thing, before I go anywhere. AndMammy Lucy! How is Mammy Lucy?"
"She is well," he replied. "She's beside herself to see you."
"Tell her I am coming!" said she. "I would rather see Mammy Lucythan the Brooklyn Bridge!"
She led him to a seat, placed herself opposite him, devouring himwith her eyes. "It makes me seem like a girl again to see you," shesaid.
"Do you count yourself aged?" asked Montague, laughing.
"Oh, I feel old," said Lucy, with a sudden look of fear,—"you haveno idea, Allan. But I don't want anybody to know about it!" And thenshe cried, eagerly, "Do you remember the swing in the orchard? Anddo you remember the pool where the big alligator lived? And thepersimmons? And Old Joe?"
Allan Montague remembered all these things; in the course of thehalf hour that followed he remembered pretty nearly all the excitingadventures which he and Oliver and Lucy had had since Lucy was oldenough to walk. And he told her the latest news about all theirneighbours, and about all the servants whom she remembered. He toldher also about his father's death, and how the house had beenburned, and how they had sold the plantation and come North.
"And how are you doing, Allan?" she asked.
"I am practising law," he said. "I'm not making a fortune, but I'mmanaging to pay my bills. That is more than some other people do inthis city."
"I should imagine it," said Lucy. "With all that row of shops onFifth Avenue! Oh, I know I shall spend all that I own in the firstweek. And this hotel—why, it's perfectly frightful."
"Oliver has told you the prices, has he?" said Montague, with alaugh.
"He has taken my breath away," said Lucy. "How am I ever to managesuch things?"
"You will have to settle that with him," said Montague. "He hastaken charge, and he doesn't want me to interfere."
"But I want your advice," said Lucy. "You are a business man, andOllie never was anything but a boy."
"Ollie has learned a good deal since he has been in New York," theother responded.
"I can tell you my side of the case very quickly," he went on aftera moment's pause. "He brought me here, and persuaded me that thiswas how I ought to live if I wanted to get into Society. I tried itfor a while, but I found that I did not like the things I had to do,and so I quit. You will find us in an apartment a couple of blocksfarther from Fifth Avenue, and we only pay about one-tenth as muchfor it. And now, whet