"You think you have," she corrected. "You have done what you have because Constantine was back of you--and now he is an old, tired man, and very soon he will think more of his days with Hannah than of the present. Which is perfectly safe for him to do. Because Mr. Constantine reckoned on his enemies he knew to a man who hated him and who was afraid of him, who admired him and who would be indifferent; and that is just as essential to success as to reckon on your friends. You never did that--you hadn't the time--it was all so dazzling and sudden with the war helping things along at breakneck speed. You will find that if you have an Achilles' heel it will be because you did not reckon on your enemies and are somewhat like a blindfolded man with money in your purse set down in a strange locality.... There. How does that sound for a welcome?" Steve was pacing up and down the floor. "I'd like enemies," he said. "I'd like to see them try jumping at my throat. I'd make them cry quits. You don't frighten me; you stimulate me." "That was my intention"--picking up her purse. "Don't go--or let me come to supper," he begged. She shook her head. Someone came in just then to whom she spoke of the pleasure it was to be back at the office; the word spread that Miss Faithful was back and girls came in groups to smile and say some pretty thing, and the men nodded with a pleased expression. Watching the procedure Steve realized that Mary was as dominant a personality in his office as he was himself, and instead of feeling a vague disapproval of the fact he was genuinely elated that it was so. After the last of the visitors had gone and the clock pointed to five he said: "Of course I'm going to be dragged some place this evening, so I wouldn't have much time--but may I come to supper? I'm going out of town next week. There, isn't that a good reason to come to-night?" "Suppose the world knew this--our little business world?" "Hang the world!" "You never did. You flattered it, and were delighted when the world patted you on the head and said, 'Nice Stevens, come in and bring your bags of gold--the living's fine.'" "Are you starting in to tell me that people would misunderstand my motives? Sezanne del Monte has chapters along those lines. And Beatrice has quite a fad of slumming and taking a notebook along to write down new slang phrases or oaths or bits of heart-broken philosophy spilled in a drunken moment.... I've grown careless to everything presumably orderly and conventional. I'm ready to walk the plank for my indifference if need be--but I do want to come home with you for supper!" Mary did not answer for a moment. Then she said, in a quick breathless tone, as if she did not want to hear her own words: "I wonder if it would do any good to try explaining--really explaining and not fibbing or pretending----" "It has always done me good when you have explained--and I can't imagine you telling cheap untruths."