European steel. English, French, and German manufacturers of
automobiles, rails, and locomotives, anticipating tremendously enlarged
outlets for their output--even if those new markets still fell short of
the demand formerly drawing upon the American factories--had earmarked
the entire world supply for a long time to come.

Since I owned large blocks of stock, not only in the industries, but in
the rollingmills as well, this boom was profitable to me. I had long
since passed the point where it was necessary, no matter how great my
expenses or philanthropies, for me to exert myself further; but as I
have always felt anyone who gains wealth without effort is no better
than a parasite, I was contracting for new plants in Bohemia, Poland,
Northern Italy and France. I did not neglect buying heavily into the
Briey Basin and into the Swedish oremines to ensure the future supply of
these mills. In spite of the able assistance of Stuart Thario and the
excellent spadework of Preblesham, I was so busy at this time--for in
addition to everything else the sale of concentrates diagrammed an
everascending spiral--that food and sleep seemed to be only irritating
curtailments of the workingday.

It was the fashion when I was a youth for novelists to sneer at
businessmen and proclaim that the conduct of industry was a simple
affair, such as any halfwit could attend to with but a portion of his
mind. I wish these cynics could have come to know the delicate workings
and balances of my intricate empire. We in responsible positions, and
myself most of all, were on a constant alert, ready for instant decision
or personal attention to a mass of new detail at any moment.

_72._ On one of the occasions when I had to fly to Copenhagen it was
Winifred and not General Thario who met me at the airport. "General T is
so upset," she explained in her vivacious way, "that I had to come
instead. But perhaps I should have sent Pauline?"

I assured her I was pleased to see her and hastened to express concern
for her father.

"Oh, it's not him at all, really," she said. "It's Mama. She's all
bothered about Joe."

I lowered my voice respectfully and said I was sure Mrs Thario was
overcome with grief and perhaps I had better not intrude at such a time.

"Poo!" dissented Winifred. "Mama doesnt know what grief is. She's simply
delighted at Joe's doing a Custer, but she's awfully bothered about his
music."

"In what way?" I asked. "Do you mean getting