"Reese! Nothing has been visible to you except the things you have seen—do you understand? The things which are seen are temporal—but those which are not seen are eternal; and you never saw them. Is that it? Have you—"
"Hush, my dear," he commanded, and smiled down into her eyes. "Yes, that's one way of putting it. And the queer thing is that it should have come to me from Macgowan—"
"It didn't—it came to you from me, from my heart and mind!"'
"Well, it came," he went on hastily. "It's like Irvin said—I've done nothing but grip. I've denied it, I've never believed it, but it's been true. Oh, it's hard to see myself as I really have been, stripped bare of my fine theories and plausible words! Yes, I've reached out only for the things actual and temporal. All my fine reasonings were false at bottom—I was blinded by everything."
Even now, clearly as he saw the fact, he shrank from the admission; he moved dry lips, trying to deny it, yet forced himself on to lay bare his inmost self before those blue eyes that stared up at him, to expose to this wife of his all the struggle through which he had so lately passed.
It was the veriest truth that behind all his actions for others had been his action for himself. Had it been to save Deming that he had gripped so hard, on his wedding-day? So he had thought, yet now he found the thought crumbling before the deeper truth. Had it been for the sixteen thousand that he had fought Macgowan—or to keep himself from going under? He understood now the flaming will to victory which even in his own sight had been masked. He could no longer delude himself, hypnotize himself. The truth faced him in naked guise, and it was ugly.
All this poured from his lips, and Dorothy's fingers gripped ever more tightly on his, and tears came into her eyes until she closed them to ease the smart. Here, where least expected, she found a new Reese Armstrong—a man never glimpsed ere this, glowing with discovery and eager with action, yet humble and bitterly penitent withal.
"I fought it out with myself, Dorothy, and then I took action," concluded Armstrong. "I realized that when it came down to rock bottom, that last bitter jibe of Macgowan's had a ring of truth. After all, I've been playing with other people's money—just that. Nothing criminal in it, nothing wrong in it; yet there's dynamite underneath. I've managed to readjust my whole viewpoint on things, Dorothy—or I hope that I have."
"To find the things which are not seen, dear?" came the faint voice.
"I hope so." Armstrong nodded and drew a long breath. "Well, here's what happened! I had the whip-hand, so I came down to the office four days ago and began to clean house. First, I got clear out of Consolidated,—lock, stock and barrel. I turned over every scrap of stock and practically all the ready money I had and could raise—in return for which I procured a controlling interest in the Deming Food concern here. Then I went to work and smashed Consolidated—put it into liquidation. I don't dare leave that structure to be grabbed by other men like Macgowan once I'm out of it. I've personally guaranteed that every investor gets his money back in full anytime, if he doesn't care to wait for the profits of the liquidation—but they'll all wait, never fear! Consolidated can get rid of all the other companies and then liquidate itself; and the result will be a good profit for every investor who hangs on. And as for me—"