ed to talk save to intimates, whom he controlled
spiritually, and did as he pleased.

"Why, I'll tell you, Mr. Cowperwood," Addison replied. "We people out
here in Chicago think so well of ourselves that sometimes we're afraid
to say all we think for fear of appearing a little extravagant. We're
like the youngest son in the family that knows he can lick all the
others, but doesn't want to do it--not just yet. We're not as handsome
as we might be--did you ever see a growing boy that was?--but we're
absolutely sure that we're going to be. Our pants and shoes and coat
and hat get too small for us every six months, and so we don't look
very fashionable, but there are big, strong, hard muscles and bones
underneath, Mr. Cowperwood, as you'll discover when you get to looking
around. Then you won't mind the clothes so much."

Mr. Addison's round, frank eyes narrowed and hardened for a moment. A
kind of metallic hardness came into his voice. Cowperwood could see
that he was honestly enamoured of his adopted city. Chicago was his
most beloved mistress. A moment later the flesh about his eyes
crinkled, his mouth softened, and he smiled. "I'll be glad to tell you
anything I can," he went on. "There are a lot of interesting things to
tell."

Cowperwood beamed back on him encouragingly. He inquired after the
condition of one industry and another, one trade or profession and
another. This was somewhat different from the atmosphere which
prevailed in Philadelphia--more breezy and generous. The tendency to
expatiate and make much of local advantages was Western. He liked it,
however, as one aspect of life, whether he chose to share in it or not.
It was favorable to his own future. He had a prison record to live
down; a wife and two children to get rid of--in the legal sense, at
least (he had no desire to rid himself of financial obligation toward
them). It would take some such loose, enthusiastic Western attitude to
forgive in him the strength and freedom with which he ignored and
refused to accept for himself current convention. "I satisfy myself"
was his private law, but so to do he must assuage and control the
prejudices of other men. He felt that this banker, while not putty in
his hands, was inclined to a strong and useful friendship.

"My impressions of the city are entirely favorable, Mr. Addison," he
said, after a time, though he inwardly admitted to himself that this
was not entirely true; he was not sure wh