"I will stay away," he said.
He did not come into the building again, and for a time I wrote with ease; but one day my ideas flew away and my pen cut through the paper. I knew that Flanders was not in the building, but I knew that he was in town. I strove to write, but this fact weighed upon me. I went out to look for Flanders. I found him in the Open Board of Trade, busily engaged in driving a bargain. I drew him to one side.
"Flanders," said I, "you have again put my ideas to flight."
"How so?" he asked. "I have not been in your building since you requested me to keep away."
"I know that; but you are in Chicago, and I have discovered that I can not write if we are in the same town. Now, it really makes no difference to you where you are."
"No," he replied.
"You can make a living anywhere."
"Yes."
"Well, then, leave this city."