ed at intervals
by the bell of the telephone on the table by his bedside, and so on
through the breakfast, now laid in an adjoining study, until it was
time to telephone to the stables for his automobile. Same telephone
message occupied fifteen minutes. Just before leaving he sent to his
wife's room to find out where he was dining. Madame was being
massaged, but sent word that they were giving a dinner-party at
Sherry's, having three boxes at the theatre afterwards, and that then
she expected him to come to the Astorbilts' ball. Long cigar, fur
coat, gloves, and into the automobile, his secretary sitting beside
him, still going through the unfinished letters.

Three inches of snow had fallen during the night--hard, dry snow, on
which the horses slipped and struggled as it was being beaten flat,
and on which his automobile would have skidded ungovernably if Fifth
Avenue had not been already well sprayed by the sand-sprinklers.
Progress in the upper part of the Avenue was rapid enough; but from
Madison Square slow, halting, and intermittent, horses were falling
in all directions, stopping the surface-cars packed with a multitude
of toilers, all going city-wards; the gong of the automobile clanged
petulantly. Down town the upper altitudes of the sky-scrapers were
lost in a vague mist of swirling snow that eddied through the
chasm-like clefts between them--there were gaps where other gigantic
iron frames were rising up to the rattling Maxim-gun-like sound of the
steam riveters.

At length they arrived at the high pilloried portico of the immense
building in which his office was situated; passing through the
revolving doors--mill-wheels perpetually kept turning by a stream of
humanity--one of a number of elevators brought him to the floor
entirely occupied by his offices. The walls and counters were of white
grey-lined marble; polished mahogany desks and burnished brass
railings glistened everywhere. Through waiting-rooms and offices he
passed to his private office. It was a plain room, richly carpeted,
soft leather chairs, a big table on which were only a few papers; a
telephone stood on the right-hand side of the blotter. There were some
maps on the walls, nothing more. On a mahogany stand against the wall
in the centre of the room, near his desk, stood the ticker, like a
sacred image on a pedestal. Strange little god, mysterious little
oracle--I don't think I would have felt surprised if on entering he
had knelt down b