The Moneychangers

The Moneychangers [with
accents]

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Sinclair (#16 in our series by Upton Sinclair)
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Title: The Moneychangers
Author: Upton Sinclair
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Language: English
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THE MONEYCHANGERS
By Upton Sinclair
NEW YORK
1908

To Jack London

CHAPTER I

"I am," said Reggie Mann, "quite beside myself to meet this Lucy
Dupree."
"Who told you about her?" asked Allan Montague.
"Ollie's been telling everybody about her," said Reggie. "It sounds
really wonderful. But I fear he must have exaggerated."
"People seem to develop a tendency to exaggeration," said Montague,
"when they talk about Lucy."
"I am in quite a state about her," said Reggie.
Allan Montague looked at him and smiled. There were no visible signs
of agitation about Reggie. He had come to take Alice to church, and he
was exquisitely groomed and perfumed, and wore a wonderful scarlet
orchid in his buttonhole. Montague, lounging back in a big leather chair
and watching him, smiled to himself at the thought that Reggie
regarded Lucy as a new kind of flower, with which he might parade

down the Avenue and attract attention.
"Is she large or small?" asked Reggie.
"She is about your size," said Montague,--which was very small indeed.
Alice entered at this moment in a new spring costume. Reggie sprang
to his feet, and greeted her with his inevitable effusiveness.
When he asked, "Do you know her, too?"
"Who? Lucy?" asked Alice. "I went to school with her."
"Judge Dupree's plantation was next to ours," said Montague. "We all
grew up together."
"There was hardly a day that I did not see her until she was married,"
said Alice. "She was married at seventeen, you know--to a man much
older than herself."
"We have never seen her since that," added the other. "She has lived in
New Orleans."
"And only twenty-two now," exclaimed Reggie. "All the wisdom of a
widow and the graces of an ingénue!" And he raised his hands with a
gesture of admiration.
"Has she got money?" he asked.
"She had enough for New Orleans," was the reply. "I don't know about
New York."
"Ah well," he said meditatively, "there's plenty of money lying about."
He took Alice away to her devotions, leaving Montague to the
memories which the mention of Lucy Dupree awakened.
Allan Montague had been in love with Lucy a half a dozen times in his
life; it had begun when she was a babe in arms, and continued
intermittently until her marriage. Lucy was a beauty of the creole type,
with raven-black hair and gorgeous colouring; and Allan carried with
him everywhere the face of joy, with the quick, mobile features across
which tears and laughter chased like April showers across the sky.
Lucy was a tiny creature, as he had said, but she was a well-spring of
abounding energy. She had been the life of a lonely household from the
first hour, and all who came near her yielded to her spell. Allan
remembered one occasion when he had entered the house and seen the
grave and venerable chief justice of the State down upon his hands and
knees, with Lucy on his back.
She was a born actress, everybody said. When she was no more than
four, she would lie in bed when she should have been asleep, and tell

herself tragic stories to make her weep. Before long she had discovered
several chests full of the clothes which her mother had worn in the days
when she was a belle of the old plantation society; and then Lucy
would have tableaus and theatricals, and would astonish all beholders
in