It was in the grey of one morning, when Allison was through with his last enforced collaborator, and, walking over to his globe, he twirled it slowly. It was lined and streaked and crossed, over all its surface now, with red, and it was the following of this intricate web which brought back to him the triumph of his achievement. He had harnessed the world, and now he had but to drive it. That was the next step, and he clenched his fist to feel the sheer physical strength of his muscles, as if it were with this very hand that he would do the driving.
Intoxicated with a sense of his own power, he went back into his study, and drew from a drawer the photograph of a young and beautiful girl, who seemed to look up at him, out of an oval face wreathed with waving brown hair, and set with beautifully curved lips which twitched at the corners in a half sarcastic smile, from two brown eyes, deep and glowing and fraught with an intense attractiveness. Every morning he had looked at this photograph, the priceless crown of his achievement, the glittering jewel to set in the head of his sceptre, the beautiful medallion of his valour!
“Only a little longer, Gail,” he told her with a smile, and then he saluted the photograph. “Gail, the maker of maps!” he said.
Callers for Mrs. Helen Davies, and a huge bouquet of American beauties for Gail. The latter young lady was in the music room, engaged with Chopin and a great deal of pensiveness, when the interruption occurred, and not quite understanding the specific division of ceremonies, crossed up into the Louis XIV room, where Nicholas Van Ploon and Miss Van Ploon sat with unusual impressiveness.
“We don’t wish to see any frivolous young people,” said Miss Van Ploon playfully, kissing Gail and pinching her cheek affectionately.
“You can’t mean me,” laughed Gail, turning to receive the outstretched palm of Nicholas, who, to her intense surprise, bent his round head and kissed her hand.
“Just you,” returned Miss Van Ploon, drawing Gail down beside her. “We consider you the most delightfully frivolous young person in existence.”
“That’s flattering, but is it complimentary?” queried Gail, and she was astounded that Nicholas Van Ploon laughed so heartily. He had folded his hands over his entirely uncreased vest, and now he nodded at her over and over.