M. HENCHARD.
One would almost have supposed Henchard to have had policy to see
that no better modus vivendi could be arrived at with Farfrae than by
encouraging him to become his son-in-law. But such a scheme for buying
over a rival had nothing to recommend it to the Mayor's headstrong
faculties. With all domestic finesse of that kind he was hopelessly at
variance. Loving a man or hating him, his diplomacy was as wrongheaded
as a buffalo's; and his wife had not ventured to suggest the course
which she, for many reasons, would have welcomed gladly.
Meanwhile Donald Farfrae had opened the gates of commerce on his own
account at a spot on Durnover Hill--as far as possible from Henchard's
stores, and with every intention of keeping clear of his former friend
and employer's customers. There was, it seemed to the younger man, room
for both of them and to spare. The town was small, but the corn and
hay-trade was proportionately large, and with his native sagacity he saw
opportunity for a share of it.
So determined was he to do nothing which should seem like
trade-antagonism to the Mayor that he refused his first customer--a
large farmer of good repute--because Henchard and this man had dealt
together within the preceding three months.
"He was once my friend," said Farfrae, "and it's not for me to take
business from him.
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