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 “I cannot let you have this money without security,” he said, as though nothing had intervened since the matter of the loan was first mentioned.

Crane paced up and down, striving to recover himself. He was impressed, subdued, but his rage and hatred burned the hotter for his subjection, his humiliation. The man was able to see that here he had to do with a strength finer, more securely fortified, more admirable than his own; he knew that his will had been mastered by a more powerful will…. Presently he spoke sullenly.

“My house,” he said. “How much on first mortgage?”

“Twenty-five hundred dollars.”

It was difficult for Crane to speak at all—now he could only nod in assent.

“I will have the papers drawn,” Angus said. “Will you come in, with Mrs. Crane, to sign this afternoon?”

“Yes,” Crane jerked out. He turned and stamped to the door, exhibiting what discourtesy he dared venture as he stood for a moment on the threshold glaring at Angus. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and went out slamming the door after him.

Angus gripped his hands together when he was alone, and shut his eyes. His face was