"
"Then why, Mr. Vine," Littleson asked, bending over from his place,
"have you come here to see us?"
"I have come," Vine answered, "because against you personally I bear no
malice. I am not well acquainted with the laws of this country, but it
seems to me that the verbatim publication of this paper would mean for
you something more than financial ruin. It would probably mean the
inside of a prison. Personally, I have not the least doubt that every
one of you deserves to see the inside of a prison, but I am not
vindictive. I give you your chance. If a trip to Europe in the _Kaiser
Wilhelm_ to-morrow morning seems to you opportune, you will certainly
escape reading the record of your own folly in the evening papers."
Weiss threw away his half-chewed cigar, and taking another from the box,
lit it deliberately.
"Now, Mr. Vine," he said, "you are a young man whose attention has
never been turned to the practical affairs of life. You are a literary
person, and you walk a good deal with your head in the clouds. You
haven't the hard common sense of us business men to be able to determine
exactly what the result in a commonplace world is of any definite
action.
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