make him view the matter in a kindly light. He told him the whole
story of how he had been convicted of technical embezzlement in
Philadelphia and had served out his term in the Eastern Penitentiary.
He also mentioned his divorce and his intention of marrying again.

Addison, who was the weaker man of the two and yet forceful in his
own way, admired this courageous stand on Cowperwood's part. It
was a braver thing than he himself could or would have achieved.
It appealed to his sense of the dramatic. Here was a man who
apparently had been dragged down to the very bottom of things, his
face forced in the mire, and now he was coming up again strong,
hopeful, urgent. The banker knew many highly respected men in
Chicago whose early careers, as he was well aware, would not bear
too close an inspection, but nothing was thought of that. Some
of them were in society, some not, but all of them were powerful.
Why should not Cowperwood be allowed to begin all over? He looked
at him steadily, at his eyes, at his stocky body, at his smooth,
handsome, mustached face. Then he held out his hand.

"Mr. Cowperwood," he said, finally, trying to shape his words
appropriately, "I needn't say that I am pleased with this interesting
confession. It appeals to me. I'm glad you have made it to me.
You needn't say any more at any time. I decided the day I saw you
walking into that vestibule that you were an exceptional man; now
I know it. You needn't apologize to me. I haven't lived in this
world fifty years and more without having my eye-teeth cut. You're
welcome to the courtesies of this bank and of my house as long as
you care to avail yourself of them. We'll cut our cloth as
circumstances dictate in the future. I'd like to see you come to
Chicago, solely because I like you personally. If you decide to