Theodore Dreiser - The Stoic

Since a total of £90,000 was not an easy sum to raise, Henshaw bethought himself as to how much better it would be to go to Johnson and the office of the Traffic Electrical Company and explain what was under way. He would then ask the directors to meet with Cowperwood, Greaves, and himself, in order that the entire transaction could be met and disposed of with Cowperwood’s money. And this idea so pleased him that he now said:

“I think it would be best if we made one transaction of the whole thing,” and he explained how, if not why. But Cowperwood understood why, well enough.

“Very well,” he said. “If you will arrange with the directors, I am ready. We can complete everything in a few minutes. You can tender your option for my check for £30,000, together with the £60,000 national deposit, or a voucher for it, and I will hand you my check, or checks, for both. All we have to do now, I take it, is to draw up a temporary agreement as to the details of this, and you can sign it.”

And he rang for his secretary and dictated the substance of the understanding.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, when it was signed, “I want to feel that we are no longer bargainers, but associates in an important enterprise that should lead to agreeable results for all of us. I pledge you my word that in return for your wholehearted co-operation from now on, you will have mine.” And he gave a most cordial handclasp to both.

“Well,” observed Greaves, “I must say, this has been done very quickly.”

Cowperwood smiled.

“I suppose that is what you would call, in your country, ‘fast work,’ ” added Henshaw.

“Nothing more than the exercise of good sense on the part of everybody concerned,” said Cowperwood. “If that’s American, fine! If it’s English, just as fine! But don’t forget that it took one American and two Englishmen to do it!”

As soon as they had left, Cowperwood sent for Sippens.

“I don’t know if I can make you believe it or not, De Sota,” he said, when Sippens arrived, “but I have just bought that Charing Cross line for you.”

“You did!” exclaimed Sippens. “Well, that’s great!” Already he saw himself as the organizing general manager of this new line.

And actually at this time Cowperwood was thinking of using him in that way; long enough, at least, to get things started, only not so much longer, since he looked on Sippens as perhaps too irritatingly American to be able to deal successfully with men of the world of high finance in London.

“Take a look at that!” he went on, picking up a sheet of paper from his desk, the tentative but nonetheless binding understanding between Greaves and Henshaw and himself.

Sippens selected from a box that Cowperwood held out to him a long gold-foil wrapped cigar, and started to read.

“Great!” he snapped, as he concluded his reading, cigar held out at arm’s length. “And if that won’t make a sensation when they read it in Chicago and New York, and here, too! Jehoshaphat. It’ll go all over the world, once you allow it to be announced here.”

“But that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about, De Sota. An announcement of this kind, and so soon after my coming here . . . well, I’m a little afraid of the effect of it . . . not back home . . . I don’t mind their being surprised or shocked . . . but the effect on the prices of underground rights over here bothers me. They may go up, and most likely will, if this gets out.” He paused. “And particularly when they read of how much money is going to pass over the table at one sitting, and for one little line: relatively £100,000 . . . for, of course, I have to build that line or lose about £70,000.”

“Right, Chief,” agreed Sippens.

“There’s a lot of nonsense to all this, you know?” continued Cowperwood, ruminatively. “Here we are, you and I, both of us getting along in years, and now running around on this new job, which, whether we do it or not, can’t mean so much to either of us. For we’re not going to be here so much longer, De Sota, and neither of us needs the money.”

“Just the same, you’re wanting to build it, Chief!”

“I know,” said Cowperwood, “and yet neither of us can do much more than eat a little, drink a little, play about a little while longer, that’s all. What astonishes me is that we can get so excited over it. Aren’t you a little astonished at yourself?”

“Well, Chief, I’m not going to pretend to speak for you, because you’re a great man, and anything you do or don’t do is important. As for me, I look on it all as some sort of a game that I’m here to play. I used to feel that everything was more important than I feel it is now. Maybe I was right then, for if I hadn’t gotten busy and done a lot for myself, life would have slipped by me and I wouldn’t have been able to do a lot of things I have done. And I guess that’s the answer: to be doing something all the time. There’s a game on, and whether we like it or not, we have to play our parts.”

“Well,” said Cowperwood, “you’ll have plenty to play with pretty soon, if this line is to be built on time.”

And he gave his small and vigorous friend a hearty smack on the back.

To Berenice, his announcement of this Charing Cross control was an occasion for celebration. For was it not she who had originally suggested this London adventure? And now here she was at last, finding herself a part of a great world of affairs such as in the past she had only dimly envisioned. Sensing Cowperwood’s exultant mood, she brought out a bottle of wine with which they might toast the occasion, and each other.

At one point in their conversation, she could not resist asking, rather impishly: “Have you, by any chance, met your, our, Lord Stane?”

“ ‘Our’?” He laughed. “Don’t you really mean your Lord Stane?”

“Mine and yours,” countered Berenice. “For he can help us both, can he not?”

What a creature! thought Cowperwood. The daring and bravado of this chit of a girl!

“To be sure,” he said, resignedly. “No, I haven’t met him, but I admit he is important. In fact, I am hoping he may mean a great deal. However, Stane or no Stane, I shall go ahead with this project.”

“And Stane or no Stane, you will achieve just what you want,” said Berenice. “You know that, and so do I. You don’t need anyone, not even me,” and she came over and took his hand in hers.

Pleased with the thought of the probable effect of this purchase on his further activities in London, Cowperwood decided to pay a propitiatory call upon Aileen. He had not heard from Tollifer and was seriously wondering what further steps he could take in that direction without committing himself.

Approaching Aileen’s suite, which adjoined his own, he heard her laugh, and, entering, found her standing before a long mirror, surrounded by a group of saleswomen and fitters from one of the London shops. She was surveying her reflection while her maid adjusted the gown. The room was littered with paper, boxes, tags, and dresses, and he noted that the gown she wore was quite magnificent and in better taste than was customary with her. Two fitters, pins in their mouths, were on their knees making rapid adjustments, while a most attractive and smartly dressed woman was giving them instructions.

“Well, well,” remarked Cowperwood as he entered, “this makes me feel a little superfluous, although I wouldn’t mind playing audience if there’s no objection.”

“Come in, Frank!” called Aileen. “I’m just trying on an evening gown. We won’t be much longer. This is my husband,” she added, addressing the assembled group, who bowed respectfully.

“Well, I must say that pale gray is most becoming,” said Cowperwood. “It emphasizes your hair. Few women could wear it as well as you do, my dear. But what I really stopped in for was to say that it looks as though we would be in London for some time.”