"And women love success more than all else," he remarked a little
cynically.

"You're unjust, Carnac. Of course, women love success; but they'd not
sell their souls for it--not the real women--and you ought to know it."

"I ought to know it, I suppose," he answered, and he held her eyes
meaningly. He was about to say something vital, but Fabian and his wife
came.

Fabian said to him: "Don't be surprised if you get a bad reception here,
Carnac. It's the worst place on the river, and I've no influence over
the men--I don't believe Tarboe could have. They're a difficult lot.
There's Eugene Grandois, he's as bad as they make 'em. He's got a grudge
against us because of some act of father, and he may break out any time.
He's a labour leader too, and we must be vigilant."

Carnac nodded. He made no reply in words. They were nearing the little
dock, and men were coming to the point where the launch would stop.

"There's Grandois now!" said Fabian with a wry smile, for he had a
real fear of results. He had, however, no idea how skilfully Carnac
would handle the situation--yet he had heard much of his brother's
adaptability. He had no psychological sense, and Carnac had big
endowment of it. Yet Carnac was not demonstrative. It was his quiet
way that played his game for him. He never spoke, if being could do what
he wanted. He had the sense of physical speech with out words. He was a
bold adventurer, but his methods were those of the subtlest. If a motion
of the hand was sufficient, then let it go at that.