"Yes, yes, I know all of that," Antoine replied, not looking at her now as he fished out a cigarette and lighted it. Then, suddenly looking at her, he said: "But I'm not just a… a relative to him… I'm like his very own flesh and blood. He's raised me, Cheri, clothed, fed and educated me. No, Christ, I can't believe it! He just couldn't do anything to hurt me…"

"Unless…" she whispered.

"Unless? Unless what?"

"Unless… it becomes a matter of your neck… or his…"

She reached him at that point. Antoine stood very still and dragged at his cigarette. In his mind, he was endeavoring to evaluate Galaxy's situation. It occurred to him that he had never actually seen the mines in Alberta or the Yukon; Uncle Gaston had not thought that necessary. His task was to see that the ever-increasing stockholders received favorable dividends and that the Board of Directors met once a month, with quarterly reports being sent out on the day to all investors. Should there ever be a shortage of cash to meet dividend payments, he was to immediately report it to his Uncle so that whatever the deficit might be it could be made up. Investors don't like to be informed of non-dividend quarters, Antoine, he'd said to him once. So, even if it hurts, and we have to take it from other enterprises, we'll keep them happy, eh?

He questioned the illegality of it then, but the powerful little man had merely laughed.

Don't you worry about illegality, young man. That's my department. You just take care of board meetings and that cute little wife of yours, eh? She looks to me as if she might require lots of loving.

And then, he'd laughed, vulgarly, a little too vulgarly, Antoine had thought, biting his own tongue to keep from saying something he might later be sorry for…