But the morning came with a sense of growing uncertainty3. It was raining. He would have enjoyed a storm, but it was just a drizzle4 with a penetrating5 dampness that found the marrow6 of his bones. He called a messenger and sent a note to Nan asking her to forget the ugly memory of the night before and fulfill7 her promise to go to the country when the rain ceased. If it continued to rain he would call at eight. He told the boy to wait for an answer. The messenger returned promptly8 and handed back his note unopened.
Of course she was bluffing10. She knew she had the whip hand for the moment and meant to use it.
"Well, two can play this game," he muttered. "We'll see who wins!"
He turned to his work with grim resolution.
For two weeks the battle between pride and love raged in silence. Each day he rose with the hope of some sign from Nan, and each day hope died in a more desperate and sullen11 despair. At last he began to question the wisdom of his course. Should he not fight his battle at closer range? What if he were in reality engaged in a mortal combat with Bivens's millions for Nan's soul and body! The idea was too hideous12 to be thinkable. In his anger he had accused her of flirting13 with Bivens, but in his heart he didn't believe it. The personality of the little money-grubber made the idea preposterous14. He was not only frail15, insignificant16, and unattractive physically17, but he had personal habits which were offensive to Nan's feelings of refinement18. His excessive use of tobacco was one thing he knew she could not tolerate. Tobacco was her pet aversion.
And yet the more he thought of the scene of their parting, the more sickening became the conviction that her anger at his use of an ugly word was merely a subterfuge20 to break their engagement. The perfidy21 and cruelty of such an act was too hideous for belief—yet if the thing were possible! He had left her to struggle alone with the first great temptation of life, and he began to feel that it was cowardly. He should have stood his ground and fought for his love.
He made up his mind to go at once and fight for his old place beside her on any terms she would grant. He seized his hat and opened the door. To his amazement22 Bivens was leisurely23 ascending24 the steps.
What on earth could he want? Was he making a social call without announcement, as was the habit of his village days in the South? At this moment Bivens was the last man he wished to encounter, yet a meeting seemed inevitable25. He stepped into the parlour and sat down with resignation to await his entrance.
To his amazement he heard the maid say:
"This way, sir, Dr. Woodman asks you to wait for him in the library."
So Bivens was calling on his arch enemy by appointment. Stuart replaced his hat on the rack and returned to his room, determined26 to await the outcome of this extraordinary visit. That its significance was sinister27 he couldn't doubt for a moment. Little could he dream how fateful for his future life was the message the little dark man bore. Stuart closed his door with a sensation of foreboding, sat down and tried to read.
On Dr. Woodman's entrance, Bivens rose to greet him with unusual animation28 and unmistakable good will.
When the doctor grasped the outstretched hand a more striking contrast could scarcely be imagined—the one big, bluff9, jovial29, sunny, powerful and straight of figure as he was always straight in speech and manners—the financier, small and weak in body, his movements sinuous30, flexible, with eyes that never looked at the man he was talking to, yet always seemed to be taking in everything in the room—eyes unusually dark, yet seemingly full of piercing light as from hidden fires beneath.
"Well, Bivens, what can I do for you? I understand from your note that the matter is important."
"Of the gravest importance to us both, Doctor," he answered with a smile. "For a peculiar31 personal reason I want us to get together and settle our differences."
"Are there any differences between us? You go your way and I go mine. You run your business to suit yourself and I'll do the same. The world's big enough for us both——"
"That just the trouble," Bivens interrupted. "It isn't. We are entering a new era of combination, merger32, co?peration."
"Compulsory33 co?peration!" the doctor laughed.
"It may be so at last," the little man said soberly. "Certainly the old idea of competition is played out. We no longer believe that business men should try to cut each other's throats."
"Oh, I see," sneered34 the doctor, "they should get together, corral their customers, and cut their throats. That certainly is better for business, but how about the customers?"
"Business is business," was the grim answer.
"For beasts of the field, yes—but for men?"
"Still, you must recognize the fact that the drug trade is a business enterprise, not a charity organization."
"Even so, still I happen to know that within a stone's throw of my store swarms35 a population of a quarter of a million human beings so poor that only three hundred of them ever have access to a bathroom. The death rate of the children is 254 in a thousand. It should be about 20 in a thousand, if normal. I don't want any higher profits out of my customers. If I've got to fight I'd rather fight the trade than fight the people. I choose the lesser36 evil."
"But I don't ask you to do evil."
"You ask me to enter with you into a criminal conspiracy37 to suppress freedom of trade, and use fraud and violence if necessary to win——"
"Fraud and violence?" Bivens interrupted, smilingly.
"Certainly. What sort of merchandise does the 'organizer' of modern industry bring to market? Tricks and subterfuges38 in the form of printed paper called stocks which represent no value. From the moment a financier once tastes this blood he becomes a beast. With the first fierce realization39 of the fact that under modern legal forms he can coin money out of nothing by binding40 the burdens of debt on the backs of helpless millions, he begins to laugh at the laws of man and God."
"Come, come, Doctor, you must realize the fact that in the drug business we are bringing order out of chaos41 and at last putting the trade on a paying basis."
"But at what a price! You have closed mills instead of opening them, thrown out of work thousands, lowered the price paid for raw material, bringing ruin to its producers, increased the price charged for your products to the ruin of the consumer, and saddled millions of fictitious42 debts on the backs of their children yet unborn. Combine, yes, but why not pay the people whose wages you have stolen as well as the owners whose mills you have closed? If combination is so extremely profitable, it should bring some benefit to the millions who are consumers—not merely make millionaires out of a few men. Who is bearing the burden of this enormous increase of fictitious wealth? The people. The price of living has been increasing steadily43 with the organization of each industry into a trust. Where will it end?"
Bivens's eyes narrowed to the merest points of concentrated light, while an amused smile played about them as he listened patiently to the doctor's tirade44. When at last the big figure towering above him paused for breath, he remarked quietly:
"The trust is here to stay, Doctor. Legislation against it is as absurd and futile45 as a movement to stop the tides. We will never pull down these big department stores or go back to the little ones. The skyscraper46 will not come down from the heavens merely because a belated traveller rails that his view of the stars has been obscured. You cannot make economy a crime, progress a misdemeanour, or efficiency a felony! If so, you can destroy the trusts."
"I'm not clear yet how it is to be done," was the passionate47 answer—"but as sure as God lives we are going to do something. The spirit of America is progressive, up hill, not down hill, mind you. At present we are putting wreckers in charge of Organization and famine producers in charge of Production. It can't last. At no period of the world's history have the claims of tyranny been so quickly seen and dared, as here and now. Nowhere and in no age has tyranny confronted such a people as ours with life and culture and ideals as high—a people so in love with liberty, so disciplined in its struggles! When the day comes that we shall be confronted with death or degradation48, the young American will know how to choose. Patriotism49 with me is not an empty word. It is one of the passions of my life. I believe in this Republic. For the moment the people are asleep. But time is slowly shaping the issue that will move the last laggard50. We are beginning dimly to see that there is something more precious in our life than the mere19 tonnage of national wealth—the spirit of freedom and initiative in our people! Shall they become merely the hired men of a few monied kings? Or shall the avenues of industry and individual enterprise remain open to their children? Is it more important to grow men or make money? Shall we transform the Republic into a huge money-stamping machine and turn its freemen into slaves who tend this machine, at the command of a master? The people will answer these questions!"
Bivens gave a cynical51 little chuckle52.
"Then I'm sure we'll get the wrong answer, Doctor," was the response.
"They will get it right bye and bye. The nation is young. You say you believe in God. Well, see to it—a thousand years are but a day to Him! Among the shadows of eternity53 He is laughing at your follies54. Nature in her long, slow, patient process is always on the side of Justice."
Bivens rose with a movement of impatience55.
"I'm sorry you can't see your way to listen to any proposition from me, Doctor. I'm a practical man. I wish to incorporate your business into the general organization of the American Chemical Company on terms that will satisfy you——"
"Such terms can't be made, Bivens," the doctor said impetuously. "Your purpose is to squeeze money out of the people—the last dollar the trade will bear. That is your motto. I simply refuse. I refuse to devote my life to gouging56 out my neighbours' eyes to increase the profits of my trade. I put myself in his place, the place of the forgotten man, the consumer, the man you are organizing to exploit. The strong and the cunning can always take advantage of the weak, the ignorant, the foolish and generous. I have an imagination which makes vivid the sense of fellowship. I meet, in the crowds I pass, thousands of friends I never speak to, but the world is brighter because I've seen them."
"But if I don't see them?" the little black eyes mildly asked.
"Certainly! You can't see them. To you the city is merely a big flock of sheep to be sheared57, while to me its myriad58 sounds are the music of a divine oratorio59, throbbing60 with tears and winged with laughter! To you, the crowd are so many fools who may be buncoed out of their goods; while to me, some of their eyes, seen but for a moment, look into mine with infinite hunger and yearning61, asking for friendship, comradeship, and love. And so, I call them my neighbours—these hurrying throngs62 who pass me daily. Because they are my neighbours, they are my friends. Their rights are sacred. I will not rob, maim63, or kill them, and I will defend them against those who would!"
With the last sentence the stalwart figure towered above the little financier in a moment of instinctive64 hostility65.
Bivens merely shrugged66 his shoulders and answered in measured, careful tones:
"Then I suppose I'll have to fight you whether I wish it or not?"
"Yes, and you knew that before you came here to-night. Your generous impulse for a settlement on my own terms is a shallow trick and it comes too late. I'm not fighting my own battle merely. I'm fighting for the people. You have heard that I am beginning a suit for damages against your Company——"
Bivens laughed in spite of himself, bit his lips, and looked at the doctor.
"I assure you I had heard nothing of such a suit, and now that I have it does not even interest me."
"Then may I ask the real reason for this urgent call and request for a compromise of our differences?"
"You may," was the cheerful response. "And I will answer frankly67. I am engaged to be married to Miss Nan Primrose68. The wedding is to occur in a few weeks. In some way she has learned of a possible conflict between your interests and mine, and asked me to settle them."
"And, may I ask, why? I don't even know Miss Primrose!"
"A woman's whim69, perhaps. Possibly because our mutual70 friend, Mr. Stuart, lives in your home, and she feared to lose his friendship in the conflict which might ensue."
The doctor was silent a moment and glared angrily at his visitor.
"Bivens, you're a liar," he cried in a sudden burst of rage.
The dark face flushed and the slim little hand began to tremble.
"I am your guest, Doctor——"
"I beg your pardon, I forgot myself."
"I assure you," the little financier continued smoothly71, "that my intentions were friendly and generous. My only desire was to help you and make you rich."
Again the doctor's eyes blazed with wrath72 and he completely lost his self-control.
"Damn you, have I asked for your help or patronage73? Its offer is an insult! I want you to remember, sir, that I picked you up out of the streets of New York, ill, hungry, out of work, friendless, and gave you your first job."
Bivens, breathing heavily, turned in silence and hurried to the door. The doctor followed.
With his hand on the knob, the financier turned, his face black with hate and slowly said:
"I'll make you live to regret this interview, Woodman!"
With a contemptuous grunt74, the doctor closed the door.
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1
idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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5
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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7
fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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bluffing
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| n. 威吓，唬人 动词bluff的现在分词形式 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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flirting
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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14
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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15
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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16
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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17
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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18
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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subterfuge
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| n.诡计；藉口 | |
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perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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32
merger
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| n.企业合并，并吞 | |
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33
compulsory
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| n.强制的，必修的；规定的，义务的 | |
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34
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
swarms
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| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
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36
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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38
subterfuges
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| n.（用说谎或欺骗以逃脱责备、困难等的）花招，遁词( subterfuge的名词复数 ) | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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41
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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42
fictitious
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| adj.虚构的，假设的；空头的 | |
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43
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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44
tirade
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| n.冗长的攻击性演说 | |
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45
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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skyscraper
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| n.摩天大楼 | |
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47
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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48
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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49
patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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50
laggard
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| n.落后者；adj.缓慢的，落后的 | |
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51
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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52
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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53
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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54
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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55
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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56
gouging
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| n.刨削[槽]v.凿( gouge的现在分词 )；乱要价；（在…中）抠出…；挖出… | |
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57
sheared
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| v.剪羊毛( shear的过去式和过去分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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58
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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59
oratorio
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| n.神剧，宗教剧，清唱剧 | |
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60
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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61
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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62
throngs
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| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
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63
maim
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| v.使残废，使不能工作，使伤残 | |
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64
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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65
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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66
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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67
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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68
primrose
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| n.樱草，最佳部分， | |
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69
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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70
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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71
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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72
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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73
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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74
grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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