by Owen Johnson
*CHAPTER XVIII*
It is only in the supreme crisis of a colossal disaster that a nation,which fondly believes it elects its governing bodies, perceives its realmasters, and then in the alarm and confusion of its apprehension, itdoes not recognize what it is shown. The group of ten men who wereassembled at Gunther's, awaiting the arrival of Slade, either inthemselves or through the influences they represented, could bring totheir support over ten billions of capital. If it were possible toconceive of a master spirit who could unite these ten men, forgettingmutual jealousy and distrust, into one unanimous body with but a singleobject, in five years these ten men, without the impediment of law,could own every necessary newspaper and magazine in the country, operateevery railroad, and, by the simple process of reinvesting their earningsannually, control every important industry, every necessary chain ofbanks, the entire food supply of the nation, and, at the cost of twentymillion dollars every four years and by remaining unknown, control thenecessary number of candidates in both political parties in mattersessential to their financial interests. That such a coalition willremain a fantasy, is due to two factors: the human nature of suchindividuals and the human nature of multitudes which, were theysuccessful, would find the corrective in massacre. When such a monetaryalliance does take place, it is usually from the necessity, as they seeit, of saving the country by the simple process of enriching themselves.
When Slade arrived, he entered by the separate entrance to Gunther'spersonal apartments, which were situated in a lower wing of themonstrous turreted granite structure which might have served for aminiature Bastile. One of the secretaries was at the door carefullyscrutinizing all arrivals. The moment he entered, he was aware that hisfate was not the only one that was under discussion.
The wing of the house was laid out in the form of a Maltese cross, witha square anteroom in the center, heavily spread with silk Persian rugs,and furnished with easy divans and upholstered chairs. Above was askylight, now transformed into a vast reflector for the burst ofelectric lights.
Four entrances of equal height in heavy Florentine relief gave on thisanteroom; from Gunther's private office, from the library, from therooms of the private secretaries, and from the outer entrance by whichSlade advanced. In the middle of the anteroom Gunther was seated at asmall card-table, studiously engrossed in a game of solitaire. He was amedium-seized man who, without an effect of bulk, conveyed an instantimpression of solidity, while the head, remarkable in the changedphysiognomy of the present day, had the falcon-like, eerie quality,characteristic of the spreading eyebrows and deep-set glance of theAmerican before the Civil War. Slow in movement, slow in speech, he waslikewise slow in the deliberation with which his scrutiny left the facehe was considering.
At the vigorous shock of Slade's coming, he completed a row of carefullylaid cards and lifted his head.
"How do you do, Mr. Gunther?" said Slade, whose eye was instantly set onthe half-opened doors leading into the library, from which sounds ofaltercation were issuing.
Slade's arrival seemed to surprise Gunther, who looked at his watch andsaid, without rising:
"You're ahead of time, Mr. Slade."
"Always like to look over the ground when there's a battle," said Slade,who in fact had intentionally effected a surprise.
"Sit down."
He motioned to the secretary, who, moving on springs, brought cigars anda light.
"I'll have to keep you waiting, Mr. Slade. There is a conference takingplace."
Slade glanced from the library to the closed doors of the secretaries'room.
"How many conferences have you?"
Gunther turned over a card, studied it and carefully laid it down. Itwas his manner of settling a question he did not wish to answer.
Slade was not offended by the rebuff. Holding most men in antagonism,he had conceived a violent admiration for Gunther and as he was the manabove all others whom he wished to impress, he imitated his taciturnity,turning his imagination on the probable groups behind the three doubledoors, which once had closed on a famous conspiracy in a palace ofturbulent medieval Florence.
Gunther at this moment was probably the most powerful personal force inthe United States, and, what was more extraordinary, in an era of publicantipathy to its newly created magnates, enjoyed universal respect. Ashe showed himself rarely, never gave interviews, and surrounded himselfby choice with that inciting element of seclusion which Napoleon bycalculation adopted on his return from Italy, the public had magnifiedwhat it could not perceive. Even as royal personages of distinctlybourgeois caliber have been impressed on history by the exigencies ofthe kingly tradition as models of tact and statesmanship, so events andthe necessities of the public imagination had combined to throw aboutthe personality of Gunther an atmosphere of grandiose mystery. Just asit is true that what is a virtue in one man is a defect in another, theimagination he possessed was much less than he was credited with and hispower lay in his ability to control it. For imagination, which is thegenius of progress, in a banker approaches a crime.
His strength lay in being that inevitable man who results as the balancewheel of conflicting interests. For beyond the Stock Exchange, which isa purely artificial organization, the financial powers will alwayscreate what amounts to a saving check, around one inevitablepersonality, whom they can trust and about whom, in times of commondanger, they can rally as to a standard. At this moment, the investedwealth of the country, frightened at the cataclysm which threatened it,had thrown its resources implicitly into the hands of this one man, whocame forward at the psychological time to stop the panic, issuing hisorders, and marshaling his forces with a response of instant obedience.
"What's going on here?" said Slade to himself. "And what's theproposition they're reckoning on squeezing out of me? I'd like to knowwhat's going on behind those doors."
As though in response to his wish the doors of the secretaries' roomswung, and a round, rolling little man of fifty, in evening dress, camehurriedly out, holding in his hand a slip of paper. He approached thestolid player with precipitation, and yet, obeying a certain instinct ofdeference, which showed itself despite his disorder, he waited untilGunther had completed a play he had in hand before blurting out:
"Mr. Gunther, this is the best we can do."
Gunther took the slip which was offered to him, glanced at it andreturned it abruptly.
"Not sufficient," he said and took up his pack of cards.
The emissary, crestfallen and desperate, returned to the conference andat the opening of the door the sound of violent discussion momentarilyfilled the anteroom as a sudden blast of storm.
"I have it," said Slade, who had recognized Delancy Gilbert, of the firmof Gilbert, Drake & Bauerman, brokers and promoters of mining interestsin Mexico, whose failure had been circulated from lip to lip in the lastforty-eight hours. "I see that game. Gilbert's to be mulcted of hisOsaba interests--for whom though? The United Mining, undoubtedly."
Five minutes later the doors of the library opened in turn and amilitary figure, gray, bent, with tears in his eyes, came slowly out,the type of convenient figureheads which stronger men place in thepresidencies of subsidiary corporations. He likewise placed a sheet ofpaper before the financier, watching him from the corner of his eye, hiswhite finger working nervously in the grizzled mustache.
"We've agreed on this, Mr. Gunther," he said desperately, in a voiceshaken by suppressed emotion. "That's as far as we can go--and thatmeans ruin!"
Gunther examined the sheet with slow attention, nodding favorably twice;but at a third column he shook his head and, seizing a pencil, jotteddown a figure, carefully drawing a circle around it.
"That's what I must have," he said and returned to his solitaire.
The emissary hesitated, seemed about to argue, and then, with a hopelessheave of his shoulders, retired. Gunther frowned but the frown wascalled forth by an unfavorable conjunction of the cards. Not once had heseemed to notice the pres
ence of Slade. In the same position thepromoter could not have helped stealing a glance to witness the effect.Slade registered the observation, mentally admitting the difference.
"What does he keep me here for?" he thought, but almost immediatelyanswered the question: "Effect on the others, of course. Well, let thempull their own chestnuts out of the fire."
In the last emissary he had recognized General Arthur Roe Paxton,President of the Mohican Trust, exploiter of certain Southern oilfields, equally involved in the Osaba speculation. The knowledge of theoperations which were being discussed--which he readily divined were thesurrender of important holdings--prepared him for the demands he mustexpect to meet.
At this moment Gunther swept the cards together, glanced at his watch,and pressed an electric button.
"Mr. Slade," he said, fixing his lantern-like stare upon the promoter,"I need not tell you that we are in a desperate situation, that it istime for action--decisive and immediate action."
Slade answered by an impatient jerking of his thumb, and, rising as hebeheld the secretary returning from the private office where he had beensent by a look of Gunther's, said:
"I understand perfectly. If the gentlemen whom I am to meet understandthe situation as well as I do, we shall have no trouble."
Gunther continued to study him thoughtfully, struck by the confidence ofhis attitude where desperation might have been expected. He seemed fora moment about to say something, but presently, giving a sign to hissecretary, began thoughtfully to shuffle the cards.
In the private office a group of men were assembled about the longtable. The disposition of Slade had been but an incident in thediscussion which had been called to decide upon the methods to bepursued in coming to the support of the market, and the deliberation hadleft its marks of dissension. Slade, on entering, rapidly surveyed thegroup, perceived its discord, and divided it into its componentinterests.
"The United Mining is the key," he said, on recognizing Haggerty andForscheim.
The group was like a trans-section of that conflicting America whichseems to hold the destiny of types. Fontaine, one of the landedproprietors of the city, French of descent and aristocratic by thepurifying experience of two generations, was next to Haggerty, across-grained, roughly hewn type of the indomitable Irish immigrant ofthe seventies, who had risen to power out of the silver mines of theeighties. Leo Marx, olive in tint, whispering in manner, thin-veinedand handsome, represented the Jewish aristocracy that had ingraineditself in the great banking houses of New York; while Forscheim, leadingspirit of five brothers, abrupt, too aggressive or too compliant,cunning and unsatisfied, was the Hebrew of speculation, the creator ofthe great corporation known as the United Mining.
Judge Seton B. Barton, representative of the great oil interests, wasthe grim Yankee, unrelieved by his modifying humor, implacable in smallthings as well as great, knowing no other interest in life except thepassion of acquiring.
Kraus, an ungainly, bulky German-American, had not moved from thehalf-retreating position he had taken on seating himself. He answeredwith a short movement of his head, watching every one with covetous,suspicious eyes that glimmered weakly over the spectacles which hadslipped to the bridge of his nose, never suggested a move, and gave hisassent the last. He was the owner of a fortune estimated at threehundred millions, acquired in lumber holdings over a territory in theWest which would have made another Belgium.
McBane, one of the strongest figures which the rise of the great steelindustry had propelled into the public light, was a short, fussy, brisklittle man, tenacious, agile, obstinate in opinion, while outwardlysmiling with a general air of delighted surprise at his own success. Hewas the present active force in the group of steel magnates whosepersonal fortunes alone amounted to over three quarters of a billion.
Marcus Stone, president of the greatest banking force of the country,the Columbus National, was a middle-westerner, sprung from the hardysoil of Ohio, virile, deep-lunged, direct and domineering, agent ofcolossal enterprises, rooted in conservatism and regarding his vocationas an almost sacred call. He accounted himself a poor man; he was worthonly three millions.
Rupert V. Steele, head of the legal firm of Steele, Forshay & Benton,corporation lawyers, was the type of the brilliant Southerner,adventuring into the Eldorado of New York as the Gascon seeks Paris orthe Irishman the lure of London. He might almost be said to havecreated a new profession--the lawyer-promoter--and in his capacious,fertile head had been evolved the schemes of law-avoiding combinationsthat others received the credit for. In public he was one of thestanchest defenders of the Constitution and an eloquent exponent of thesanctity of the judiciary.
With the exception of Fontaine and Marx, in this varied group ofmaster-adventurers, all had begun life with little better than the coatson their backs, and the colossal fortunes which roughly totaled twobillions had been amassed in virtually twenty years. This is a pointwhich future economists may ponder over with profit.
At Slade's entrance the conversation abruptly ceased and each in his ownmanner studied the new arrival; some with languid, confident curiosity;Forscheim, who had old scores to settle, with a glance of unrestrainedsatisfaction; Steele, leaning a little forward, eager in hisinquisitorial mind to divine the attack, already convinced that such apersonality as Slade would not come without an aggressive defense.
The second glance reassured Slade, for he distinguished in the group theconflicting rivalries and perceived by what slender checks theirrepressible jealousies and antagonisms had been stilled.
"If they've got together," he said to himself with a sudden delight in afavorable hazard, "it's because they're scared to the ground and theywant to shut off the panic first and trim me second. Good! That's whatI wanted to be sure of."
He advanced to the head of the table, swinging into place a heavy chairwhich he swept through the air as though it had been paper, and,resolved to acquire the advantage of initiative, said:
"Well, gentlemen, let's get right down to business. I've come to getfive millions."
In their astonishment several pushed back their chairs with a harsh,grating sound. Forscheim laughed aloud insolently, but Steele,sensitive to small things, instantly determined to employ caution, to bethe last to crush him if he failed, and the first to support him if hehad indeed the power to survive.
"Mr. Slade," said Stone in his blasting manner, "your remark is in badtaste. The situation you are facing is an exceedingly serious one andonly a prompt compliance on your part with the measures we havedetermined upon to avert a national calamity, will save you frombankruptcy"--he stopped, but not from hesitation, adding with a suddenflush of anger--"and worse."
"We are here," said McBane, in tones of conviction which produced anodding of assenting heads, "in the performance of a public duty. Incarrying that out we do not intend to allow the fate of one man or adozen to interfere with the steps we intend to take to restore publicconfidence."
"And I repeat," said Slade, with a disdainful smile, "that I am here toget five millions; and you are going to give it to me."
An outburst of exclamations followed this assertion, half angry, halfcontemptuous, above which was heard Forscheim's shrill nasal voicesaying:
"Dere is a shtate examiner, Mr. Shlade, don't forget dat."
"My books are kept as carefully as yours, Forscheim," said Slade, with asudden angry concentration of his glance. He had once in a committeemeeting taken Forscheim by the throat and flung him out of doors--a fearwhich the other could never forget. Then he struck the table aresounding blow with his fist, stilling the clamor.
"Wait!" he exclaimed, rising until his bulky figure towered over thetable. "Don't let's waste time. Come to the point. You think I'vecome here to receive your terms. You are mistaken. I've come here todeliver an ultimatum--my ultimatum."
"Do you realize, sir," said Judge Barton sternly, "what the object ofthis meeting is? We are here to preserve the prosperity of this countryfor the next ten years, the
homes and savings of millions of persons."
"No, that is not why you are here," said Slade contemptuously. "I'lltell you why you are here. You are here to protect your owninterests--first, last, and always! Because a panic to you meanshundreds of millions, the end of development, the closing of markets;because at the end of a stock market panic is an industrial panic, andthe end of any protracted individual depression means the colossalflattening out of your billion dollar trusts. That's why there'll neverbe another '93--that's the one good thing in the present situation thepublic doesn't know. There isn't going to be a '93 now, and you know itand I know it."
"Suppose, Mr. Slade, you listen to our stipulations first," said McBane,but in a more conciliatory tone.
Beyond his exposition which had struck all with its piercing verity,Slade had effected over them an almost physical mastery, which mengrudgingly are forced to yield to masculine strength.
"I know your demands," said Slade instantly. "Oh, there is no informerpresent. Nothing difficult. I know you and the way your minds work.You have three conditions: first, I am to resign the presidency of theAssociated Trust; second, sell my stock control to a syndicate you haveorganized, which will stand as a guarantee to the public; third, thetaking over of all my holdings in the Osaba territory by the UnitedMining Company. Am I right?"
He did not need to wait for a reply; the answer was plain upon theircountenances.
"Now, gentlemen, I'm going to finish up," he said, pursuing hisadvantage. "Remember one thing: I'm not a Majendie. I fight to thelast breath and when I'm downed I carry everything I get my hands ondown with me.
"Now, let's be perfectly plain. I know where I stand. If Majendie andthe Atlantic Trust hadn't gone to smash, there wouldn't be a ghost of ashow for me; you'd squeeze every last cent I had. I know it. I knew itthen when I knew it was Majendie or me. But you see Majendie's dead andthe Atlantic Trust--three hundred and eighty millions--has closed itsdoors. That makes all the difference in the world. You don't want totrim me--not primarily. Forscheim and the United Mining do--that'stheir private affair. What you men who count want, I repeat, is to stopthis panic--to get me out of the way and stop the panic if you can; ifyou can't get me out of the way, to stop the panic at once--now--withintwenty-four hours! Now, gentlemen, I defy you to let the AssociatedTrust close its doors tomorrow and prevent, with all your money, thewreck of every industry in the country."
"You overestimate the importance of such a failure," said Fontaineslowly, but without aggressiveness.
Slade's attack had made a profound impression.
"I have taken particular care that if the Associated fails, it'll be thebiggest smash on record," said Slade, ready now to play his trump card.
"What do you mean?" demanded Haggerty, startled, while the others waitedexpectantly.
"Just that," said Slade, not unwilling that they should know the depthof his game. "If the Associated fails, sixty-seven institutions failfrom here to San Francisco. I have taken care of that in the last twomonths."
"You haf ingreased your oplications at sooch a time!" fairly shriekedForscheim, who saw his victory eluding him.
"You bet I did," said Slade. "I made sure that I couldn't be _allowed_to fail."
He took from his pocket a folded sheet and handed it to Steele, who hada moment before finally determined to come to his support.
"That's what failure means. Pass it around," he said.
The lawyer elevated his eyebrows in astonishment. The disclosure of howSlade by negotiating loans with a number of subsidiary institutionsthroughout the country had made them united in his general fate,completed the dawning recognition of a master which had been forming inhis mind.
"He will beat them," he thought, passing on the paper. "He will go far.I must be his friend." Aloud he said carefully: "Of course, Mr. Slade,at the bottom the affairs of the Associated Trust are absolutelysolvent."
"Solvent under any system of banking in the world which does notwithhold ready money on proper guarantees," said Slade, looking at himwith a glance that showed the lawyer he had received his alliance;"solvent as the Atlantic Trust was, is, and will be proved to be. Yougentlemen know that as well as I do."
"Of course, Mr. Slade," said Steele, with an appearance ofaggressiveness which the other understood perfectly, "one thing must beunderstood--the present speculative operations of the Trust Companiescan not go on."
"Now, gentlemen, to finish up," said Slade, who seized the hint."Here's my answer: I will agree to any legislation, in fact will urgeit, that will place the Trust Companies on the basis of the NationalBanks; that is, on the same conservative basis of loans andtransactions. That is right. I am now convinced that it is for thebest." He allowed a slight smile to show and continued: "I will resignas President of the Associated Trust three months from to-day. That Ihad already determined on. For what I wish to do, that would only be anembarrassment. You will lend me the five millions I wish and, betterstill, tomorrow morning make a simple announcement to the effect that,having consulted on the affairs of the Associated Trust, you have foundno reasons for apprehension, and announce that you will come to itssupport. Sign it Fontaine, Gunther, McBane, Marx and Stone, and the runon the banks will end in twenty-four hours. Tomorrow morning I willpersonally assure Mr. Steele, by an examination of my books, thataffairs are as I have described. After this examination you can placefive millions to my disposal--if necessary. Believe me, this is a muchbetter way to end the panic. You reassure public confidence by yourguarantee. The other way, by forcing my resignation, you create animpression that everything is rotten. Besides, the first way has thisadvantage--it is the only way. That's my word, gentlemen; if you intendto stop the panic you've got to float me!"
An hour later, having yielded not a jot of his position, turning a deafear to threats, expostulations and arguments, he rose victorious.
In the anteroom he went up to Gunther, who was still bowed over hissolitaire, waiting grimly until his word had been carried out.
"Mr. Gunther," said Slade, stopping at the table, "we have come to anunderstanding. The gentlemen in the other room were agreeably surprisedat my exposition of the affairs of the Associated Trust. They are goingto lend me five millions."
"Indeed!" said Gunther in a sort of grunt but with a countenance soimpassive that Slade was moved to admiration.
"Gunther," he said, suddenly carried away by a feeling of propheticelation, "up to now you've known me only as a speculator. Now I'm goingto become a conservative force. In a month I'm coming to you with aproposition. You're the only man I would ever trust. Good-night."
His automobile was waiting. He threw himself riotously into it, givingthe address of Mrs. Kildair's apartment; and as he felt the pleasant,exhilarating sensation which the speed of his machine conveyed to him,he repeated, feeling suddenly how at last he had emerged from the perilsof the first phase which he had once so frankly defined:
"Now, I'll be conservative!"
Unlike Gunther, who had behind him the traditions of generations ofauthority, Slade had that typical quality so perplexing in the Americanmillionaire of sudden fortune--the childlike eagerness for admiration.When he arrived at Mrs. Kildair's and found that she was still absent,he was consumed with a nervous impatience. He seated himself at thepiano, playing over clumsily refrains of the crude ranch songs whichcame to him as an echo of his earlier struggling days. But these echoesof a past conflict seemed only to whet his impatience. He ended with acrashing discord and rose, lighting another cigar, pacing the broadspace of the studio with rapid, restless strides, surprised at theannoyance which her absence brought him.
When Mrs. Kildair entered, let in by Henriette, her maid, Slade flungaside his cigar and strode impatiently forward.
One glance at his triumphant face told her what she wanted to know. Shemade a quick sign to him with her hand and turned her back, disengagingher opera cloak with exaggerated slowness, drawing a deep breath. Thenshe sent Henriette upstair
s to her room to wait until she called.
"Congratulations," she said calmly, entering the studio and extendingher hand. "You have won!"
"How do you know?" he said, taken back by her composure.
"It is there--in your eyes," she said, passing her fingers so close tothem that he seemed to feel their soft contact. "Tell me all about it."
"Yes, I've beaten them--Fontaine, Barton, Forscheim, Haggerty, the wholelot of them," he cried with a gleeful laugh. "More, I've forced myselfinto their hidebound circle. You'll see--in a month I'll be one ofthem."
At times roguishly delighted as a boy, at others with flashes ofprimitive power, he related to the eager woman all the details of thenight and the desperate stake he had played to make a failure socolossal that they themselves would recoil before it.
"And if Majendie had not killed himself?" she said breathlessly,womanlike perceiving the hazards of fate.
"But he did!" he cried impatiently, unwilling to admit the element ofchance in the destiny he had hewn for himself. But the thought soberedhim. He looked down from the height to which his ambition had flung him."It's true. It was either Majendie or me," he said quietly. "Shall Itell you something? That night we were here I knew he was lost--that hewould do it. Don't ask me how I knew!" Then, shaking off the memory asan evil dream, he continued, extending his arm in crude magneticgestures: "Well, that's over. I am where I want to be; the rest iseasy. In a month--two months--they will see, Forscheim and Haggerty,how the trap they laid for me has sprung against them. Tonight will beworth twenty millions to me."
"How do you mean?" she said eagerly, but she did not look at him.Slade, triumphant in his brute power, inspired her with an emotion shedid not dare to show him yet.
"Forscheim and Haggerty, the United Mining," he said, forgetting hishabitual caution in the now present desire to dazzle and overcome thiswoman who had so resisted him, who had become so suddenly necessary tohim, "have laid their trap to get hold of the Osaba territory. They'vestripped Gilbert and old General Paxton of their holdings, and they weresure they'd strip me. The Osaba gold fields will be one day worthhundreds of millions--another Eldorado. Well, they'll get a thirdinterest tonight. I've got a third, and Striker and Benz. MexicanUnited, who've fought them tooth and nail, have another third. Each nowhas got to have what I've got or get out. I've got the control and whenI sell--" He ended with a laugh. "I've licked Forscheim before but itwill be nothing to this. They thought they had me down and they playedinto my hands!"
Suddenly he changed his tone as the memory came to him of Guntherimpassively waiting in his anteroom.
"Now they'll see what I can do," he said savagely. "Gunther's the onlyreal man among them. I must have Gunther. With him I can do what Iwant--construct, construct!"
She rose, stopping him as he most wanted to continue.
"You must go now," she said quietly; "I've already done what Ishouldn't."
He stopped, infuriated at this check to his inclinations, for, beyondhis victory over the men he had fought, she still eluded him.
"Did you care what happened to me--much?" he asked savagely.
"Yes; I was surprised how much I cared," she said slowly, keeping hereyes on his.
There are certain strong, direct characters who are most vulnerable inthe moment of their greatest exaltation as the generality of men areweakest in their defeats. She saw in his eyes how much she lacked tohis complete triumph and suddenly seized the opportunity by theforelock.
"Why are you afraid to marry?" she said vigorously. "You are a child;you don't understand life. You don't know how to draw from it theincitements it can give you. You wish to be a great figure and youthink you can remain an outcast."
"What do you mean?" he said roughly, and advancing he took her by theshoulders without her recoiling.
"You want to be another Gunther," she said, meeting his glance with anintensity of ambition greater than his, "and you wish to fight like aguerrilla. You think you need no one, and you need admiration,confidence, to be spurred on, flattered, cajoled, made to feel yourgreatness, to have it dinned into your ears day and night, to besurrounded by it. You have the vanity of a god and you don't know howto feed it."
"Well, what would you do?" he said, still holding her from him.
"I would make you what you should be: a personage--not a wanderer," shesaid with extraordinary energy. "I'd make your home a court; I'd showyou what it meant to step into your box at the opera and have thefeeling that every eye in the house turned to you. You want to do greatthings--but you want to feel that you have done great things, thatothers are impressed by them, envy and look up to you. You want thatstimulus and there is only one way to get it. Take your place insociety, where you belong among the great figures."
"I find my own stimulus," he said, looking at her.
"Listen, John Slade," she said furiously. "You think because you havealways done what you want with women that that will continue. It won't.You are at a dangerous age. You have depended upon women; you cannotshake it off. The day will come when you'll be caught as every man iswho plays beyond his youth and strength. Women will either hinder youor push you on. Make up your mind now. Which do you want?"
"I want you!" he said, suddenly caught by her words that came as ananswer to his new view of himself; and violently, characteristically, headded, enfolding her: "And when I want a thing, I want it now! Get yourwraps on. We're going over to Jersey now and get married."
"No, no," she said firmly though her heart was beating so that shethought he must hear it.
"You've got me. I never expected it, but I've got to have you," he saidand brutally, without thinking whether he hurt her or not, he forced herhead up to his. She did not resist, intoxicated, carried away by herabsolute helplessness in his arms. Then, confident, he renewed hisdemand that they should be married that night, at once.
"No, no," she said, disengaging herself, and though all her naturalbeing responded to his demand, her intellectual self conquered, knowingfull well that beyond winning him, she must always maintain over him acertain moral superiority. "No. To do what I want to do, we must notgive any one the slightest occasion to talk. Such an act as this wouldbe suicidal."
"When then?" he said furiously.
"Announce our engagement tomorrow," she said, "and in a week we can bemarried very quietly."
"A week!" he cried indignantly.
"Or less," she said, smiling; "and now you must go."
"You haven't said, 'I love you,'" he said with a last flash ofantagonistic suspicion.
"When I say it you will be satisfied," she said, with a look thatrevealed to him a new, undiscovered world.
"Rita," he persisted doggedly, seizing her wrist, "I know what you cando, what you'll make of us, but that's not all. I don't want anycold-blooded reason-and-logic marriage. Look here. You've got to loveme--like hell--do you understand?"
She turned on him swiftly, opening her lips until her white teeth showedin their tense grip. Then, suddenly veiling her emotion in a relaxingsmile, she said, as she rang for Henriette:
"No woman could find it hard to love you, John Slade."
When he had left she remained standing a long while very thoughtfully.Then she went quietly upstairs and fell almost immediately into a quiet,profound sleep. Her own self-possession surprised her; but unusualnatures have this over common-place ones that they are continuallysurprising themselves.
