terms are
impossible. Forty thousand a year! Why that is within ten thousand of
the present share of any of us but you. It is the income of nearly three
quarters of a million at six per cent--of a million at four per cent!"

"Very well," said Norman, settling back in his chair. "Then I stand
pat."

"Now, my dear Norman, permit me to propose terms that are fair to
all----"

"When I said I stood pat I meant that I would stay on." His eyes laughed
at Lockyer. "I guess we can live without Burroughs and his dependents.
Maybe they will find they can't live without us." He slowly leaned
forward until, with his forearms against the edge of his desk, he was
concentrating a memorable gaze upon Lockyer. "Mr. Lockyer," said he, "I
have been exercising my privilege as a free man to make a damn fool of
myself. I shall continue to exercise it so long as I feel disposed that
way. But let me tell you something. I can afford to do it. If a man's
asset is money, or character or position or relatives and friends or
popular favor or any other perishable article, he must take care how he
trifles with it. He may find himself irretrievably ruined. But my asset
happens to be none of those things. It is one that can be lost or
damaged only by insanity or death. Do you follow me?"

The old man looked at him with the sincere and most flattering tribute
of compelled admiration. "What a mind you've got, Frederick--and what
courage!"

"You accept my terms?"

"If the others agree--and I think they will."

"They will," said Norman.

The old man was regarding him with eyes that had genuine anxiety in
them. "Why _do_ you do it, Fred?" he said.

"Because I wish to be free," replied Norman. He would never have told
the full truth to that incredulous old cynic of a time-server--the truth
that he was resigning at the dictation of a pride which forbade him to
involve others in the ruin he, in his madness, was bent upon.

"I don't mean, why do you resign," said Lockyer. "I mean the
other--the--woman."

Norman laughed harshly.

"I've seen too much of the world not to understand," continued Lockyer.
"The measureless power of woman over man--especially--pardon me, my dear
Norman--especially a bad woman!"

"The measureless power of a man's imagination over himself," rejoined
Norman. "Did you ever see or hear of a man without imagination being
upset by a woman? It's in here, Mr. Lockyer"--he rapped his
forehead--"altogether in here."

"You reali