"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he laughed in an embarrassed sort of way. "Still, every one in the city knows I'm living there."
The girl made no reply, but absent-mindedly looked away in the direction of the library, where Fanny and her intended were heard chattering. For a few moments she sat still, as if engrossed in thought. Then suddenly she turned toward him. Impulsively she said:
"I wonder how it must feel to be a man—and successful!"
He laughed lightly, as he answered:
"It feels great! To know that you've done something; to know that you've made a name and a place for yourself; to realize that no one dare try to walk over you; to feel that your bitterest enemy respects you and your rights because if he doesn't it means a fight to the finish—that makes a man feel good—"
"I should think it would!" she exclaimed.
"And then," he went on, "success means money, and money means power, and luxury and every comfort that the world can give. If a successful man wishes to travel by land, he has his private car, if he wishes to travel by sea, he has his own yacht, and so it goes."
"It must be wonderful to be like you, and have everything that you could wish for."
He smiled at her enthusiasm, and then his manner suddenly became more serious. In a tone which had peculiar emphasis, he said:
"I didn't say that I had everything I could wish for."