CHAPTER xxxm

DURING the autumn of 1916, that never to be
forgotten autumn when France bled from a thou-
sand unstanched wounds, Anatole Kahn faced ruin.
Many urgent letters had followed that first warning
letter from his business associates in Paris, but now
had come one that he could not ignore, that he dared
not ignore — it was brutally final. The Galeries Kahn
must be offered for sale and their contents would have
to go under the hammer. No more pouring of money
into a sieve, no more bolstering up of a worthless
business. Kahn's associates had consulted, it seemed,
and were quite determined to cut their losses. They
went on to state that for more than two years they had
foolishly pandered to his importuning, but that as he
had now clearly lost his head they themselves would
conduct all the final arrangements. The shop would
be put in an agent's hands at once, while the auction
would be left to a firm of well-known auctioneers in
Toulon. The original scheme had been his, all his.
It had not succeeded; he had over-spent outrageously,
he had squandered their money; very well, he must
be prepared for the fact that they did not any longer
intend to support him. No more demands for money
would be met beyond the very barest obligations until
such time as the property was sold. As for Kahn he
would get his fourth share in the proceeds of anything
that was saved from the wreck, but they wished him
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