"That is how we have to buy immunity from small annoyances here," he
said. "All the time it is the same thing--dollars, dollars, dollars!
That messenger boy was clever to get in. When we leave this restaurant,
you will find that there are at least half a dozen people waiting to
speak to me. It will be telephoned to several places in the city that I
am dining here to-night. From where I am sitting, I can see two
reporters standing by the entrance. They are waiting for me."

She looked at him with interested eyes.

"But why?" she asked timidly.

"Oh! it is simply a matter," he said, "of the money-markets. I have been
doing some things during the last few days which people don't quite
understand. They don't know whether to follow me or stand away, and the
Press doesn't know how to explain my actions; so you see I am watched.
You heard what I said," he asked, somewhat abruptly, "about those two
things, obedience and truth?"

"Yes!" she answered.

"They say," he resumed, "that a wise man trusts no one. I, on the other
hand, do not believe this. There are times when one must trust. Your
mother and your father were both as honest as people could be, whatever
their other faults may have been. I like your face. I believe that you,
too, are honest."

"Remember," she said, smiling, "that I have never been tempted."

"There could be no bidders for your faithfulness," he answered, "whom I