"My dear, like you I could question fate, but—"
"Fate nothing; I don't know what it is, but it does seem strange to me. I don't understand why a man as well educated as you are has to struggle with the world when the commonest sort of a person can buy property. I don't understand it."
"Easy enough," the Professor replied. "The commonest sort of a person may have money, and having money, buys property. Nut-shell argument, Milford," he added, slapping his hand flat upon the table.
"Failure has always been easier to understand than success," said Milford. "Failure is natural, it seems to me. It comes from the weakness of man and nothing is more natural than weakness. I am arguing from my own case, and don't mean to reflect on any one else. I have thrown away many an opportunity, but that was in keeping with my weakness."
"But I hear that you are anything but weak," said the Professor's daughter. "They call you a mystery, and a mystery is a success until it is solved."
"But an unsolved conundrum might starve to death," he replied.
"Not so long as it remained unsolved," the Professor declared. "We feed the performer till he explains the trick."
"Then I suppose Mr. Milford will not explain his trick," said the girl.
"I'd be foolish to shut off my supplies, wouldn't I?"
"Yes," she admitted, "but if you have a mystery you ought to let your friends share it."