Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

“ The Socialists must first of all concentrate money in their own hands.”
He quite satisfied his comrades. He was respected everywhere, because he was without arrogance or ostentation, and yet had so admirable a balance in the bank. He had made most of his money through a “development park,” which he had planned and executed; scores of little houses along orderly streets, planted with saplings; each house with its lawn, its tiny back garden, all neat, bright and prosperous. They were built for the factory workers, and Mr. Petersen had included a number of what he called “built-in features” ”

“ Petersen had remained faithful to the memory of Minnie for five years. It cannot be said that he had grieved, or suffered; his attachment had not been a very passionate one; yet Minnie had not misread him. He really had wanted to marry her, had felt for her a mild and kindly sort of love.
He had not, however, been over-anxious for marriage. He cared little for women ”

“ Their business discussion amounted to very little. No one could discuss business with Minnie, anyway. It was an absurd idea.
Simply, Mr. Petersen asked if he couldn’t lend her a bit until she had “looked round,” and without demur Minnie accepted. In some intangible but perfectly plain way she suggested that she accepted only because of her little Sandra and that accordingly the acceptance was justified, if not sanctified. Mr. Petersen was ready to believe this.
“And now,” he said, when the money had changed hands, “there’s the problem of finding a place for you to live.” ”

“ He admitted making and keeping a considerable sum of money, and was always ready and willing to explain this course.
“The only valuable Socialist,” said he, “is the one who works for the advancement of all. How do you wish me to so work then if I strip myself of power? Money, in our modern world, is power. ”

“ A servant would have required lunch, which Frankie didn’t; would have expected to be warm in winter, to rest in the terrible heat which overwhelmed the river valley in mid-summer.
Mr. Petersen waived the question of rent. After a time it was mentioned no more. The two women didn’t thank him; it seemed not only proper but essential that Defoes should live in the Defoe house. Mr. Petersen, after all, was a stranger, an intruder, a Swede. ”