The Stoic. Theodore Dreiser

do,” said Tollifer, interested and respectful.

      “Mrs. Cowperwood has been allowing herself to slip—physically as well as socially—a course which may have justification to her mind, but none in reality. That is, she is still too young and has too much to live for, whatever she may think.”

      “I can understand her feeling, though,” again interrupted Tollifer, with a trace of philosophic defiance which Cowperwood liked. It indicated sympathy and understanding.

      “Very likely,” said Cowperwood, dryly and rather pointedly. “The task I am offering you, and for which I will, of course, provide the means, is that of intervening in some way—ostensibly without my knowledge and, of course, without her knowing anything about this conversation of ours—to make her life more interesting and colorful than it is now. She is alone too much. She sees too few people, and those not of the right sort. My purpose in calling you here is to see whether—the necessary money provided for you, of course, and no conduct in any way open to question indulged in—you cannot find ways of broadening her interests, surround her with a type of person more in keeping with her means and her mentality. I may say here, I am not seeking any contact with society, either for her or myself. But there are intermediate worlds with which I think she might be brought in touch, to her advantage, as well as, in a way, to my own. If you understand what I mean, perhaps you can make some suggestions.”

      Whereupon Tollifer proceeded to outline as exactly as he could the possibilities of a life for Aileen such as Cowperwood had indicated. Cowperwood listened and seemed pleased with Tollifer’s grasp of the situation.

      “There is one thing more, Mr. Tollifer,” he continued. “I want you to understand that your services in connection with the brokerage house which I will select will be directed by me personally. I hope we understand each other as to that,” and he rose from his chair, indicating that the interview was at an end.

      “Yes, Mr. Cowperwood,” said Tollifer, rising and smiling.

      “All right. Now I may not be able to see you very soon again, but you will not be left without instructions. I will see that a drawing account is arranged for you. That is all, I believe. Good morning!”

      And this salutation, accompanied by a resumption of aloof dignity, was sufficient once more to impress Tollifer with a sharp sense of the vast gulf that still lay between himself and this man.

      Chapter 14

      The effect on Tollifer of this amazing interview was extremely exhilarating. Leaving Cowperwood’s office, he walked north along Fifth Avenue, in order to gaze at the beautiful Cowperwood mansion. After examining the impressive Italian palace lines and decorations, he turned, and with a sense of adventure, hailed a hansom cab for a ride to Delmonico’s, at Fifth Avenue and Twenty-seventh Street. This region was alive at the luncheon hour with the most pretentious and ambitious of the New York social world and stars of the theatrical, artistic, and legal world, coming to see and be seen. Before he left the restaurant, he had spoken with at least six of the better known patrons, and because of his exuberant and authoritative manner, had registered himself sharply on the minds of many others.

      In the meantime, Cowperwood had instructed the Central Trust Company, of which he was a director and stockholder, to notify a certain Bruce Tollifer, then resident at the Alcove, on Fifty-third Street near Park Avenue, that his services in connection with its special account department were to be considered, and that if he would call at once he would receive instructions. The execution of this arrangement, which took place on the same day, with an advance of one month’s salary at $200 a week, so thrilled Tollifer that he felt as though he were walking on air. At once he made it his business to inquire, as casually as possible, concerning the New York history of the Cowperwoods, not only among newspapermen but the various know-it-alls of the bohemian bars and restaurants of the city: the Gilsey House, the Martinique, the Marlborough, and the Metropolitan at Broadway and Forty-second Street, the mecca for sports and rounders of the day.

      And discovering that Aileen had been seen with this and that actor, and at certain restaurants, or races, or other public events, with various personalities, he decided to get himself somehow included in those gatherings where she was certain to be. A proper formal introduction, of course, would be the best possible entrance for him.

      And now Cowperwood, having moved in this matter of a social chaperonage for Aileen, was free to devote his attention to the business of arranging for the sale of at least a portion of his Chicago holdings. At the same time, he was awaiting developments of negotiations by Cole with the representatives of the Charing Cross line. His main object, at the present time, was to reduce them to such a state that when he did see them they would be willing to make a reasonable offer.

      And so, upon the arrival of Jarkins, with news that Greaves and Henshaw were once more anxious to obtain an interview with him, he affected no great interest. If they really had an advantageous offer to make, and were not merely haggling as before, and if they would appear within the next ten days . . .

      Whereupon Jarkins immediately cabled his London partner, Kloorfain, emphasizing the necessity for prompt action. Within twenty-four hours Messrs. Greaves and Henshaw were on a boat sailing for New York. And for several days after their arrival they were closeted with Jarkins and Randolph, going over the data which they would present to Cowperwood. And after arranging for an interview, and ignorant of the fact that Cowperwood himself was the instigator of this meeting, they were finally brought into his presence by Jarkins and Randolph, equally unenlightened as to their part in the matter.

      True enough, as Cowperwood knew, Greaves and Henshaw were men of great contracting and engineering import in England. They were comparatively wealthy, as he had been informed by Sippens. Also, in addition to their contract with the Traffic Electrical Company to build the tunnels and stations of the new underground, they had recently paid an additional lb30,000 for a further option to take over the entire “act.”

      But plainly the Traffic Electrical Company was on the rocks. Consisting of Rider, Lord Stane, Johnson, and some of their friends, it had the advantage of considerable legal and financial knowledge, but none of these men had any real conception of how to finance or successfully operate such a road, and were in no position to finance it themselves. Stane had already invested heavily in the two central loop roads: the District and the Metropolitan, but had not made any money. Hence his desire to divest himself of the Charing Cross line and the offer of it to Greaves and Henshaw upon payment of lb30,000 additional to the lb10,000 previously paid by them to secure the right to construct it. Actually, since he now had this larger loop scheme in mind, Cowperwood was interested, because, as he saw it, it might either be operated separately, or, better yet, should he secure control of the District and the Metropolitan, be combined with those as an extension, a most excellent entering wedge for him.

      Nonetheless, when Greaves and Henshaw, shouldered and bolstered by Jarkins and Randolph, entered his office, his manner was not overwhelmingly cordial. Greaves was a man of great height and bulk, of florid complexion, and a solid middle-class conviction of his own worth. Henshaw, though also tall, was thin and pale, with the air of a gentleman. Allowing them to spread out their maps and papers, and once more listening to the entire story as though he did not already know it, Cowperwood asked only a few questions.

      “One thing, gentlemen,” he announced, “assuming that I chance to be interested in this idea to the extent of looking into it further, how much time may I have for an investigation? I assume, of course, that what you really want to do is to sell the complete control of this project, together with your contract to construct the line. Am I right?”

      At this both Greaves and Henshaw stiffened visibly, for it was not at all what they wished to do. What they really desired, as they now explained, was to sell for lb30,000 a 50 per cent interest. The other 50 per cent, together with their contract for construction, was to remain in their hands. For this share, however, as they naively stated, they were willing to use their influence to help market the $8,000,000 worth of $100 shares which the Traffic Electrical Company had already printed but had never been able to sell, surrendering a portion of their 50 per cent so to do. But, as they added, a man like Cowperwood could help finance and operate the road in such a way that it would be sure to pay—a suggestion