That, of course, it would be impossible to do; the last barrier to
the commercial invasion of the Avenue would be removed; that heroic
rear-guard of the old order of things would be destroyed; in a year
or two, a monster of steel and stone would rise on the spot where
three generations of Vantines had lived their lives; and the
collection, so unified and coherent, to which the last Vantine had
devoted his life, would be merged and lost in the vast collections of
the museum. It was a sad ending.
"Gentleman to see you, sir," said the office-boy, as I sat down at my
desk, and a moment later, M. Felix Armand was shown in to me.
I have only to close my eyes to call again before me that striking
personality, for Felix Armand was one of the most extraordinary men I
ever had the pleasure of meeting. Ruddy-faced, bright-eyed, with dark
full beard and waving hair almost jet black--hair that crinkled about
his ears in a way that I can describe by no other word than
fascinating--he gave the impression of tremendous strength and
virility. There was about him, too, an air of culture not to be
mistaken; the air of a man who had travelled much, seen much, and
mixed with many people, high and low; the air of a man at home
anywhere, in any society.
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