"But you'll have to
help."
"I!" Aunt Marit shifted her chair backwards, gaping. "I, did you say?
Ha-ha-ha! Just tell me, how many hundreds of thousands did he lose over
that ditch or drain or whatever it was?"
"He was six months behind time in finishing it, I know. But the
Company agreed to halve the forfeit for delay when they'd seen what a
masterpiece the work was."
"Ah, yes--and what about the contractors, whom he couldn't pay, I hear?"
"He's paid them all in full now. The Bank arranged things."
"I see. After you and he had mortaged every stick and rag you had in the
world. Yes, indeed--you deserve a good whipping, the pair of you!"
Uthoug stroked his beard. "From a financial point of view the thing
wasn't a success for him, I'll admit. But I can show you here what
the engineering people say about it in the technical papers. Here's an
article with pictures of him and of the barrage."
"Well! he'd better keep his family on pictures in the papers then," said
the widow, paying no attention to the paper he offered.
"He'll soon be on top again," said her brother, putting the papers back
in his pocket. He sat there in front of her quite unruffled. He would
let people see that he was not the man to be crushed by a reverse; that
there were other things he valued more than money.
"Soon be on top?" repeated Aunt Marit. "Has he got round you again with
some nonsense?"
"He's invented a new mowing machine. It's nearly finished.
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