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« Le matin du 18 octobre, Laurier sort sur sa véranda dans le vif soleil automnal. Des aides agités se glissent dans l'ombre de l'embrasure de la porte au moment où un tramway arrête au coin. Bourassa en descend, emprunte l'entrée et monte les marches. Encore une fois, c'est l'heure de la confrontation, rencontre soigneusement orchestrée par ses propres amis et ceux de Laurier. Pendant que les mains pâles et veinées du vieil homme empoignent les épaules de Bourassa, celui-ci le regarde un instant. Il grisonne maintenant, cet homme qui prend le tramway parce qu'il n'a pas les moyens de s'offrir une automobile, cet homme de 49 ans qui n'a d'autre place où aller. « Bourassa est un homme de grand talent, mais son talent est négatif et destructeur. Il n'accomplira jamais rien de constructif ou d'utile pour l'une ou l'autre cause qu'il épousera. » Laurier avait écrit ces mots moins d'un an auparavant.
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"On the morning of October 18th, Laurier stepped out to his veranda in the brisk autumn sunshine. A flurry of aides withdrew into the shadows of the doorway as a streetcar stopped at the corner. Bourassa got down, turned into the walk, and climbed the steps. It was confrontation again, a meeting carefully maneuvered by his own friends and Laurier's. As the old man's pale, veined hand went to each of his shoulders, Bourassa stood for a moment looking up. He himself was grey-haired now, a man who took streetcars because he could not afford automobiles, a man of forty-nine with nowhere else to go. "Bourassa is a man of great ability, but his ability is negative and destructive. He will never accomplish anything constructive or of benefit to any cause he may espouse." Laurier had written the words not a year before. They counted for little ugly accumulations of a hundred and fifty years, prejudice, privilege, hostile power and greed. There was still nobility in his dreams and detestations, he was still of the heart's blood. The two turned in at the doorway and climbed the stairs together. For the first time in almost ten years, they stood facing each other in the study. Nothing was forced between them, nothing was lacking in warmth, nothing was left undone to assuage wounded pride. Nothing remained at the end but to complete the rift in the country. For the benefit of the English, Bourassa promised with a smile, he could still throw a few boots' at Laurier. They would not hurt and they would not help. He was an ally now in Quebec where none was needed. He was an albatross through all of English Canada.
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