outright.

The next time I saw Langdon I was full of enthusiasm for Roebuck. I can see
his smile as he listened.

"I had no idea you were an expert on the trumpets of praise, Blacklock,"
said he finally. "A very showy accomplishment," he added, "but rather
dangerous, don't you think? The player may become enchanted by his own
music."

"I try to look on the bright side of things." said I, "even of human
nature."

"Since when?" drawled he.

I laughed--a good, hearty laugh, for this shy reference to my affair of the
heart tickled me. I enjoyed to the full only in long retrospect the look he
gave me.

"As soon as a man falls in love," said he, "trustees should be appointed to
take charge of his estate."

"You're wrong there, old man," I replied. "I've never worked harder or with
a clearer head than since I learned that there are"--I hesitated, and ended
lamely--"other things in life."

Langdon's handsome face suddenly darkened, and I thought I saw in his eyes
a look of savage pain. "I envy you," said he with an effort at his wonted
lightness and cynicism. But that look touched my heart; I talked no more of
my own happiness. To do so, I felt would be like bringing laughter into the
house of grief.

XVI. TRAPPED AND TRIMMED

There are two kinds of dangerous temptations--those that tempt us, and
those that don't. Those that don't, give us a false notion of our resisting
power, and so make us easy victims to the others. I thought I knew myself
pretty thoroughly, and I believed there was nothing that could tempt me
to neglect my business. With this delusion of my strength firmly in mind,
when Anita became a temptation to neglect business, I said to myself: "To
go up-town during business hours for long lunches, to spend the mornings
selecting flowers and presents for her--these things _look_ like
neglect of business, and would be so in some men. But _I_ couldn't
neglect business. I do them because my affairs are so well ordered that a
few hours of absence now and then make no difference--probably send me back
fresher and clearer."

When I left the office at half-past twelve on that fateful Wednesday in
June, my business was never in better shape. Textile Common had dropped a
point and a quarter in two days--evidently it was at last on its way slowly
down toward where I could free myself and take profits. As for the Coal
enterprise nothing could possibly happen to disturb it; I was all ready for
the first of