He turned to his meditations.
'Damn impertinent woman!'
Another interval for reflection, and he spoke again.
'Damn impertinent, interfering woman that!'
He reached out for the bottle of Bourbon and filled his glass. He put
it to his lips, then slowly withdrew it.
'Damn impertinent, inter, I wonder!'
There was a small mirror on the opposite wall. He walked unsteadily
toward it and put out his tongue. He continued in this attitude for a
time, then, with increased dejection, turned away.
He placed a hand over his heart. This seemed to depress him still
further. Finally he went to the table, took up the glass, poured its
contents carefully back into the bottle, which he corked and replaced
on the shelf.
On the floor against the wall was a pair of Indian clubs. He picked
these up and examined them owlishly. He gave them little tentative
jerks. Finally, with the air of a man carrying out a great resolution,
he began to swing them. He swung them in slow, irregular sweeps, his
eyes the while, still glassy, staring fixedly at the ceiling.
Ruth had not seen Bailey since the afternoon when he had called to
warn her against Basil Milbank. Whether it was offended dignity that
kept him away, or merely pressure of business, she did not know.
That pressure of business existed, she was aware. The papers were full,
and had been full for several days, of wars and rumours of wars down in
Wall Street; and, though she understood nothing of finance, she knew
that Bailey was in the forefront of the battle. Her knowledge was based
partly on occasional references in the papers to the firm of Bannister
& Co. and partly on what she heard in society.
She did not hear all that was said in society about Bailey's financial
operations, which, as Bailey had the control of her money, was
unfortunate for her. The manipulation of money bored her, and she had
left the investing of her legacy entirely to Bailey. Her father, she
knew, had always had a high opinion of Bailey's business instincts, and
that was good enough for her.
She could not know how completely revolutionized the latter's mind had
become since the old man's death, and how freedom had turned him from a
steady young man of business to a frenzied financier.
It was common report now that Bailey was taking big chances. Some went
so far as to say that he was 'asking for it,' 'it' in his case being
presumably the Nemesis which waits on those who take big chances in an
uncertain market. It was in the air that he was 'going up against' the
Pinkey-Dowd group and the Norman-Graham combination, and everybody knew
that the cemeteries of Wall Street were full of the unhonoured graves
of others who in years past had attempted to do the same.
Pinkey, that sinister buccaneer, could have eaten a dozen Baileys.
Devouring aspiring young men of the Bailey type was Norman's chief
diversion.
Ruth knew nothing of these things. She told herself that it was her
abruptness that had driven Bailey away.
