hardly tell why or how, they were all enemies of his.
They closed their office doors to him; even their clerks
treated him with contemptuous incivility.

This blow to his pride enraged and humiliated him,
curiously enough, as no other misadventure of his life
had done.

Louisa remembered vividly the description he had given to her,
at the time, of this affair. She had hardly understood why
it should disturb him so profoundly: to her mind, these men
had done nothing so monstrous after all. But to him,
their offense swallowed up all the other indignities
suffered during the years of his Ishmaelitish wanderings.
A sombre lust for vengeance upon them took root in his
very soul. He hated nobody else as he hated them.
How often she had heard him swear, in solemn vibrating tones,
that to the day of his death his most sacred ambition
should be their punishment, their abasement in the dust
and mire!

And now, all at once, as she looked up at him, where he leant
against the mantel, these vagabond memories of hers took
point and shape. It was about these very men that he was talking.

"And think of it!" he was saying, impressively. "It's magnificent
enough for me to make this great hit--but I don't count it
as anything at all by comparison with the fact that I make it
at their expense. You remember the fellows I told you about?"
he asked abruptly, deferring to the confused look on her face.