After days of tentative discussion, Hilary Wainwright decided on
Christmas Eve to have a Christmas tree at his office for the children
of the striking stevedores who loaded his sugar fleet. When he
announced the decision Roger almost flatly refused to have anything to
do with it.
"The children really should not be made to pay for their fathers'
obstinacy," Hilary said, and recalled to Roger the sanctimonious aunt
who had brought him up, trying to force a cookie on him after she had
unjustly spanked him.
"Why not settle the strike?" he suggested, without looking at Hilary.
"The men are only asking ten cents an hour more, and the right to
organize."
He felt Hilary's lips compress, exactly like that aunt's, and wanted to
laugh, although he was angry and disgusted.
"The matter is being arbitrated, and, in the meantime, Christmas is
here. I don't like to think of children unmerry on Christmas day."
"It would be uncomfortable," Roger said in a tone that made Hilary
glance at him with the look of a financier considering an uncertain
investment. But, whatever Hilary Wainwright's reaction to Roger's tone,
he dismissed it and said pleasantly:
"I guess we'll have to deliver the invitations personally. There's
not enough time for notes. Could you take half? I have the names and
addresses. They all live rather close together."
For a moment Roger hesitated. Then he agreed.
"I can probably cover the lot. They all live in one section."