presence of his fiancee he saw that she was again
in the throes of some violent agitation.

She began at once: "I've just had the most frightful scene with father,"
she said. "He's been hearing a lot of stuff about you down town and it
set him wild."

"Do you mind if I smoke a cigar?" said he, looking at her unseeingly
with haggard, cold eyes. "And may I have some whisky?"

She rang. "I hope the servants didn't hear him," she said. Then, as a
step sounded outside she put on an air of gayety, as if she were still
laughing at some jest he had made. In the doorway appeared her father
one of those big men who win half the battle in advance on personal
appearance of unconquerable might. Burroughs was noted for his
generosity and for his violent temper. As a rule men of the largeness
necessary to handling large affairs are free from petty vindictiveness.
They are too busy for hatred. They do not forgive; they are most careful
not to forget; they simply stand ready at any moment to do whatever it
is to their interest to do, regardless of friendships or animosities.
Burroughs was an exception in that he got his highest pleasure out of
pursuing his enemies. He enjoyed this so keenly that several times--so
it was said--he had sacrificed real money to satisfy a revenge. But
these rumors may have wronged him. It is hardly probable that a man who
would let a weakness carry him to that pitch of folly could have escaped
destruction. For of all the follies revenge is the most dangerous--as
well as the most fatuous.

Burroughs had a big face. Had he looked less powerful the bigness of his
features, the spread of cheek and jowl, would have been grotesque. As it
was, the face was impressive, especially when one recalled how many,
many millions he owned and how many more he controlled. The control was
better than the ownership. The millions he owned made him a coward--he
was afraid he might lose them. The millions he controlled, and of course
used for his own enrichment, made him brave, for if they were lost in
the daring ventures in which he freely staked them, why, the loss was
not his, and he could shift the blame. Usually Norman treated him with
great respect, for his business gave the firm nearly half its total
income, and it was his daughter and his wealth, prestige and power, that
Norman was marrying. But this evening he looked at the great man with a
superciliousness that was peculiarly disrespectful from so young a man
to one