How they would laugh,
all three, as they sat in the splendid cafes over their wine, at the
hardships the father had endured! Still he must not forget the present,
and he sorely needed money. He would go to Amos again. Amos was a rich
man, very rich, and a filthy Jew. Amos could easily spare him some money
and renew the last loan. He was going to be successful now and would
be able to pay good interest. What better investment could Amos have?
Surely none. He was going to set up a cafe with the money at Tanta, or
Zagazig, or even Benhur,--yes, Benhur was the best,--where there were
few competitors. Then he would make a fortune, as other Greeks had done,
and Amos would be paid in full. He was not extravagant, no; he had the
business instincts of his race. Half these rich merchants of Alexandria
had begun as he would begin; he would succeed as they had succeeded. The
future was really hopeful, if he could only borrow a little capital.
With these thoughts surging through his brain Gregorio paced up and down
the pavements. At last he turned into the Rue des Soeurs and started
slowly toward his home.
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