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Frederic, Harold, 1856-1898

"The Market-Place"


All that we have to know. We can take it as a principle
that none of them will go bankrupt and lose his place
on the exchange unless he is pressed tight to the wall.
Well, our business is to learn how far each fellow is
from the wall to start with. Then we keep track of him,
one turn of the screw after another, till we see he's
got just enough left to buy himself out. Then we'll let
him out. See?"
"It's cruel, isn't it?" she commented, calmly meditative,
after a little pause.
"Everything in the City is cruel," he assured her with
a light tone. "All speculative business is cruel.
Take our case, for example. I estimate in a rough way
that these fourteen men will have to pay over to us,
in differences and in final sales, say seven hundred thousand
pounds--maybe eight hundred. Well, now, not one of those
fellows ever earned a single sovereign of that money.
They've taken the whole of it from others, and these others
took it from others still, and so on almost indefinitely.
There isn't a sovereign of it that hasn't been through
twenty hands, or fifty for that matter, since the last man
who had done some honest work for it parted company with it.
Well--money like that belongs to those who are in possession
of it, only so long as they are strong enough to hold on
to it. When someone stronger still comes along, he takes
it away from them.


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