“I dislike you very much at this moment,” she replied. “By an effort I remember that you have saving qualities. Did you hear me say that I was prepared to make an exception?” “It may be too late,” I said. “What are the terms? You said under certain conditions.” She frowned, hesitated and went on slowly. “It is my castle. You may dwell there, you may come and go, you may make free of it in discretion, agreeably to our joint pleasure, _provided_ you forego beforehand all rights accruing from use and tenure.” We debated the contract in a high, ceremonious manner. It was agreed that the bargain, if made, should terminate automatically at the instant I should presume to make the slightest demand upon her. “As if for instance I should demand the key to the chamber of horrors,” I said, whimsically. “Exactly,” she replied. I stipulated, not in earnest of course, that she should make no demands upon me. “That was implied,” she said. “We make it explicit.” When at last I accepted unreservedly she put forth her hand in a full, generous gesture; and the pact was sealed. We walked homeward on a perfectly restored basis of friendship, changed our minds at the last minute, went instead to a restaurant, then to the theatre, and passed a joyous evening together. CHAPTER VI A GIANT IN BABY SWEAT i Steadily the American giant grew worse in his mind. There were yet lower depths of insolvency. The passion to touch them was like the impulse to collective suicide in the Dark Ages. Bankruptcy ceased to be a disgrace, there was so much of it. Hope of profit was abandoned. Optimism was believed to be an unsound mode of thought. All of this was a state of feeling, a delusion purely. The country was rich. The unemployed were fed on fine white bread and an unlaundered linen shirt cost fifty cents. Every catastrophe was bound to happen. On a rainy Wall Street morning in late December, with no sign or gesture of anguish, the Great Midwestern Railroad gave up its corporate existence and died. It was a shapeless event. Ten men sat around the long table in the Board Room smoking, fidgeting, irritably watching the time. These were the eminent directors. They were men whose time nobody could afford to waste,--enterprisers in credit, capital, oil, coal, metals and packing house products. They wished the obsequies to begin promptly and be as brief as possible, for they had many other things to mind. Yet the president, with nothing else to do, had kept them waiting for nearly five minutes. This had never happened before. However, when he came and silently took his place at the head of the table he looked so dismal that they forgave him, and the ceremony might have been brought off with some amiability of spirit but for a disagreeable incident at the beginning.