with security for every joy of body and mind; even death he faces
with the comforting consciousness that his defeat will only coincide
with that of human science. He buys culture, he buys peace of mind,
he buys love.--You think not! I don't use the word cynically, but
in very virtuous earnest. Make me a millionaire, and I will purchase
the passionate devotion of any free-hearted woman the world
contains!"

Waymark's pipe had gone out; he re-lit it, with the half-mocking
smile which always followed upon any more vehement utterance.

"That I am poor," he went on presently, "is the result of my own
pigheadedness. My father was a stock-broker, in anything but
flourishing circumstances. He went in for some cursed foreign loan
or other,--I know nothing of such things,--and ruined himself
completely. He had to take a subordinate position, and died in it. I
was about seventeen then, and found myself alone in the world. A
friend of my father's, also a city man, Woodstock by name, was left
my guardian. He wanted me to begin a business career, and, like a
fool, I wouldn't hear of it. Mr. Woodstock and I quarrelled; he
showed himself worthy of his name, and told me plainly that, if I
didn't choose to take his advice, I must shift for myself. That I
professed myself perfectly ready to do; I was bent on an
intellectual life, forsooth; couldn't see that the natural order of
things was to make money first and be intellectual afterwards. So,
lad as I was, I got a place as a teacher, and that's been my
business ever since."

Waymark threw himself back and laughed carelessly. He strummed a
little with his fingers on the arm of the chair, and resumed: