Institute Read Free

dummy names on the books, so he wouldn’t even know it. Possibly he is, but he doesn’t think so, I gather from the little he talks about it, and neither do I. He has reasons for not telling anyone, and I have mine, but mine are simple: the way they act when we go to their houses for dinner and when they come to mine. In general, Du Ponts sell chemistry—processes, dyes they know how to make, fibers they cook out of oil and spin into cloth like nylon, seat covers, stockings. Richard, however, sells things. He boasts that he knows a thing from a thing, like tractors and bulldozers and carts, and boats, boats of all sizes and shapes. If you had met him at his office, you’d see the scale models he has there, of everything he makes. But, of course, just like General Motors, all those things need paint, as well as the other things Du Pont has for sale. So he doesn’t hurt them; he helps them.”
    “Where does General Motors come in?”
    “Well, it’s a Du Pont thing.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Lloyd, on something like that, no one is ever sure. But it has been and, so far as I know, still is ... mainly.”
    I was so astonished that I could think of nothing to say for some time.
    Suddenly she asked: “How does Wilmington look to you now?”
    “Bigger.”
    “It’ll grow on you. Getting back to Richard, there’s another reason for Du Pont respect: they’re a bit recent compared with him. They came around 1800, pushed out by the French Revolution, and went into the gunpowder business. Then came Napoleon, our War of 1812, and all sorts of things such as our canals which used powder to blow out stumps. One thing led to another, so they got bigger and bigger and bigger. But Richard’s ancestors were here long before that. They came over with William Penn and took land on the Delaware. Just to show how filthy rich Richard is, he still has some of that land, and I think Du Ponts respect it.”
    “Well, I would—”
    “Okay, but being cheap doesn’t help.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “If I were hauling a girl somewhere, I’d give her something to eat.”
    “Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes, of course.”
    “But not just yet!”
    She gave me a playful pat and held up her hand, and there it was—the gorge of the Susquehanna passing under us, one of the world’s great sights. She stared, then whispered: “It’s so beautiful, I always want to inhale it!”
    “Then let’s both inhale.”
    Soon we were in Havre de Grace and I pulled in at a roadside joint on the far side of town. We went in and sat at the counter and had hotdogs on rolls, buttermilk, apple pie a la mode, and coffee. She wolfed everything down, then sat sipping her coffee and breathing through her nose. Then we were in the car again.
    “Young man in a dinner jacket?” she said. “What kind?”
    “Actually, I have two—one black, one red—or, say maroon. I didn’t like it at first. The satin lapels were too shiny. But I had them changed to cross-grained silk. Now I like it fine.”
    “I wonder if I will.”
    “Just for your info, I’m the one wearing it.”
    “Well, just for your info, I’m the one that’ll be presenting it, with you inside, at dinner, when I introduce you to money—and, my sweet, I do mean money, millions and millions and millions of it—in an effort to get you your institute. But if your red dinner jacket gets a laugh, we lose before we really go to bat. Why don’t we stop at your place so I can have a look?”
    “Listen, I like the goddam coat.”
    “Why the pash goddam?”
    “I don’t want my clothes inspected.”
    She studied me for a moment and then asked: “What’s with the apartment, Lloyd?”
    “Nothing—that I know of.”
    “There has to be, from the shifty way you’re acting.
    “It’s a perfectly good condo. My mother left it to me. Now, if you don’t mind, let’s talk about something else.”
    “What’s there. A wife you haven’t mentioned?”
    “I’m not married.”
    “Lloyd, if I find you the money,