Saint Loup had a much finer beach than Saint
Raphael. Yes, and wait until Anatole Kahn had a
word with the mayor about proper electric lighting.
The mayor was a stubborn and slow-witted fool;
what they needed was a mayor with an eye to progress,
what they needed was a mayor like Anatole Kahn who
would put good money into everyone's pocket. Why,
the local authorities were nothing but brigands,
neglecting the town and purloining the taxes. Imagine
such a thing! filthy cesspools that stank and disgorged
themselves over the vegetable gardens. Santo Flour,
if the visitors came to suspect they would surely
start thinking about typhoid fever. Santo Flour, if
Saint Raphael should come to suspect . . . Out-
rageous the way they were all being robbed! They
had reason to be grateful to Anatole Kahn who had
shown them how they and their town were neglected.
Thus they talked; scowling ominously at the mayor
in the very streets of Saint Loup, should they meet
him; refraining from lifting their hats when he passed,
which had long been their courteous and friendly
custom; making loud-voiced remarks about cesspools
that stank, whenever he happened to come within
hearing, since progressive ideals not infrequently
oust that charming though less profitable virtue,
politeness. But the mayor of Saint Loup was so old,
so near-sighted, so deaf, and moreover so benevolent
a person, that he went on his way with serenity,
quite unconscious that anyone had been scowling.
§2
New Year's Day brought with it magnificent
weather; the sky was cloudless, the air like crystal.
People almost forgot their grievances as they stood to
gossip at windows and doors, feeling pleased with
themselves and with most of their neighbours. And
Anatole Kahn was feeling pleased with himself as he
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