“You've gone back to gambling lately, Matt,” said I to myself. “You've been on a bender, with your head afire. You must get out of this Textile business as soon as possible. But it's good sound sense to plunge on the coal stocks. In fact, your profits there would save you if by some mischance Textile should rise instead of fall. Acting on Roebuck's tip isn't gambling, it's insurance.” I emerged to issue orders that soon threw into the National Coal venture all I had not staked on a falling market for Textiles. I was not content--as the pious gambling-hater, Roebuck, had begged me to be--with buying only what stock I could pay for; I went plunging on, contracting for many times the amount I could have bought outright. The next time I saw Langdon I was full of enthusiasm for Roebuck. I can see his smile as he listened. “I had no idea you were an expert on the trumpets of praise, Blacklock,” said he finally. “A very showy accomplishment,” he added, “but rather dangerous, don't you think? The player may become enchanted by his own music.” “I try to look on the bright side of things.” said I, “even of human nature.” “Since when?” drawled he. I laughed--a good, hearty laugh, for this shy reference to my affair of the heart tickled me. I enjoyed to the full only in long retrospect the look he gave me. “As soon as a man falls in love,” said he, “trustees should be appointed to take charge of his estate.” “You're wrong there, old man,” I replied. “I've never worked harder or with a clearer head than since I learned that there are”--I hesitated, and ended lamely--“other things in life.” Langdon's handsome face suddenly darkened, and I thought I saw in his eyes a look of savage pain. “I envy you,” said he with an effort at his wonted lightness and cynicism. But that look touched my heart; I talked no more of my own happiness. To do so, I felt would be like bringing laughter into the house of grief. XVI. TRAPPED AND TRIMMED There are two kinds of dangerous temptations--those that tempt us, and those that don't. Those that don't, give us a false notion of our resisting power, and so make us easy victims to the others. I thought I knew myself pretty thoroughly, and I believed there was nothing that could tempt me to neglect my business. With this delusion of my strength firmly in mind, when Anita became a temptation to neglect business, I said to myself: “To go up-town during business hours for long lunches, to spend the mornings selecting flowers and presents for her--these things _look_ like neglect of business, and would be so in some men. But _I_ couldn't neglect business. I do them because my affairs are so well ordered that a few hours of absence now and then make no difference--probably send me back fresher and clearer.”