He had not noted the strange, quiet look that had come into her face. “In substance, you mean to tell me that you can give me position.” “I can give you the very highest!” “You are of an old family, then?” “None older in Chicago!” She did not speak. “Come!” he went on with the mighty rush of his schemes. “Mine is to be no trifling million-dollar success. I do not mean to boast--but I feel the power in me! No young man in America has a chance like mine! I shall become one of the first business men of America! It is sure--sure as that the years roll round. I shall become the master of railroads, of mines, of factories. All--all!--are going to yield me their wealth. And that means power, and more power--and position, and greater position. And this wealth, this power, this position, shall all be yours!” As he spoke she had slowly unwound the shawl that tightly bound her head; and the beauty of her face, with its crown of rich dark hair, was before him unobscured, unconfined. She had drawn herself up, her breath was coming and going with slow tensity, and her eyes--those wonderful blue eyes--were blazing full upon him. But she did not speak. “Well,” demanded Drexel, “what do you say?” “I say,” said she, and her words came with slow, sharp distinctness, “that you are the most despicable man I ever met!” “What!” he cried. And he stepped back against the door, as though she had struck him in the face. The eyes still blazed with awful contempt into his own, and the slow words went on: “You are a man of great gifts. I see that. Genius, maybe--perhaps great genius. And doubtless you will achieve all you say. But for a man with divine gifts, to devote those divine gifts to gigantic schemes for selfish gain, which means to the despoilment, to the misery, to the crushing down, of his fellows--I repeat, such a man is the most despicable man I ever met!” The paleness of Drexel’s face began to redden with anger. “I see,” said he grimly, “that you are one of these socialists!” “Perhaps,” said she, steadily. “Yes”--between his angry, clenched teeth. “There are some of your kind even in my country. Disappointed, snivelling failures, snarling at people who have succeeded!” His anger blazed fiercer. “Let me tell you this, young lady. You would not be so contemptuous of people with position, if you had a little of position yourself! Nor of wealth, if you had ever tasted a little of wealth’s comforts!” But she did not quail before his fire. “Perhaps not,” she returned, quietly. There was a moment of silence between the two. “And now, will you please allow me to pass?” she said. Her words sent all the anger out of him. “But,” he besought desperately, “surely sometime I may meet you again?” “This is the last time,” said she with quiet finality. “Forever?” “Forever.” He leaned against the door and stared at her with dizzy pain; till she recalled him by repeating, “Will you please allow me to pass?”