Fille.

"He lost those suits of importance?"

"That is so, monsieur."

"And they cost him six thousand dollars--and over?" The Big Financier
seemed to be pressing towards a point.

"Something over that amount, monsieur."

"And he may lose the suit now before the Courts?"

"Who can tell, monsieur!" vaguely commented the little learned official.

M. Mornay was not to be evaded. "Yes, yes, but the case as it stands--to
you who are wise in experience of legal affairs, does it seem at all a
sure thing for him?"

"I wish I could say it was, monsieur," sadly answered the other.

The Big Financier nodded vigorously. "Exactly. Nothing is so
unproductive as the law. It is expensive whether you win or lose, and
it is murderously expensive when you do lose. You will observe, I know,
that your Jean Jacques is a man who can only be killed once--eh?"

"Monsieur?" M. Fille really did not grasp this remark.

M. Mornay's voice became precise. "I will explain. He has never created;
he has only developed what has been created. He inherited much of what
he has or has had. His designs were always affected by the fact that he
had never built from the very bottom. When he goes to pieces--"

"Monsieur--to pieces!" exclaimed the Clerk of the Court painfully.

"Well, put it another way. If he is broken financially, he will never
come up again. Not because of his age--I lost a second fortune at
fifty, and have a third ready to lose at sixty--but because the primary
initiative won't be in him. He'll say he has lost, and that there's an
end to it all. His philosophy will come into play--just at the last. It
will help him in one way and harm him in another."

"Ah, then you know about his philosophy, monsieur?" queried M. Fille.
Was Jean Jacques' philosophy, after all, to be a real concrete asset of
his life sooner or later?

The Big Financier smiled, and turned some coins over in his pocket
rather loudly. Presently he said: "The first time I ever saw him he
treated me to a page of Descartes. It cost him one per cent. I always
charge a man for talking sentiment to me in business hours. I had to
listen to him, and he had to pay me for listening. I've no doubt his
general yearly expenditure has been increased for the same reason--eh,
Maitre Fille? He has done it with others--yes?" M. Fille waved a hand
in deprecation, and his voice had a little acidity as he replied: "Ah,
monsieur, what can we poor provincials do--any of us--in dealin