"Things naturally shape themselves that way, rather,
you know. If they didn't, why then the whole position
would become difficult. But you are an American,
to all intents and purposes."
"Oh, no--I never took any step towards getting naturalized,"
Thorpe protested. "I always intended to come back here.
Or no, I won't say that--because most of the time I
was dog-poor--and this isn't the place for a poor man.
But I always said to myself that if ever I pulled it off--if
I ever found my self a rich man--THEN I'd come piking across
the Atlantic as fast as triple-expansion engines would
carry me."
The young man smiled again, with a whimsical gleam
in his eye. "And you ARE a rich man, now," he observed,
after a momentary pause.
"We are both rich men," replied Thorpe, gravely.
He held up a dissuading hand, as the other would have spoken.
"This is how it seems to me the thing figures itself out:
It can't be said that your name on the Board, or the
Marquis's either, was of much use so far as the public
were concerned. To tell the truth, I saw some time ago
that they wouldn't be. Titles on prospectuses are played
out in London. I've rather a notion, indeed, that they're
apt to do more harm than good--just at present, at least.
But all that aside--you are the man who was civil to me
at the start, when you knew nothing whatever about
my scheme, and you are the man who was good to me later on,
when I didn't know where to turn for a friendly word.
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