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Updated: June 14, 2025
One way or another you'll capitalize that reputation. That's the way New York is." "That isn't the way I am, however. I'll capitalize my brains and ability, if I've got 'em; not my gun-play." "Your gun-play will advertise your brains and ability, then," retorted Cressey. "Nobody expects you to make a princely income shooting up toughs on the water-front.
"On that principle, Horace Vanney must have," remarked Jim Maitland. "He's fighting Laird, tooth and nail, and certainly he represents one phase of Wall Street activity." "My revered uncle," drawled Herbert Cressey, "considers that the present administration is too tender of the working-man or, rather, working-woman when she strikes.
Cressey met him at the entry to the guest's lounge giving on the general dining-room. "Damned if you're not a good-lookin' chap, Ban!" he declared with something like envy in his voice. "Thinning down a bit gives you a kind of look. No wonder Mertoun puts in his best licks on your clothes." "Which reminds me that I've neglected even Mertoun," smiled Banneker. "Go ahead in, will you?
"Speaking of Manzanita," remarked Cressey, and spoke of it, reminiscently and at length, as they walked along together. "Did the lovely and mysterious I.O.W. ever turn up and report herself?" Banneker's breath caught painfully in his throat. "D'you know who she was?" pursued the other, without pause for reply to his previous question; and still without intermission continued: "Io Welland.
"With pleasure," he said, laughing; "if you'll plead for me with the jury." "Zen here he iss." She stretched a long and, as it seemed, blatantly naked arm into a group near by and drew forth the roundish man whom Cressey had pointed out at Marrineal's dinner party. "He would be unfaithful to me, ziss one." "I? Never!" denied the accused. He set a kiss in the hollow of the dancer's wrist.
D. Appleton and Co., New York, 1900, p. 265. Also, F.G. Cressey: The Church and Young Men.
"Is that how they're making them in the East?" doubtfully asked the neophyte, reflecting that the pinched-in snugness of the coat, and the flare effect of the skirts, while unquestionably more impressive than his own box-like garb, still lacked something of the quiet distinction which he recalled in the clothes of Herbert Cressey.
"Wouldn't he come?" interrogated the chorus. "He's awfully sorry, but he says he isn't fit for decent human associations." "More and more interesting!" "Why?" "What awful thing has he been doing?" "Eating onions," answered Cressey. "Raw." "I don't believe it," cried the indignant Miss Forbes. "One doesn't eat raw onions at Sherry's. It's a subterfuge." "Very likely."
After this the rats will suspect every man of being a Banneker in disguise, and we shall have no more trouble." "You see!" remarked Cressey triumphantly as Masters went away. "I told you you'd arrived." "Do you count a word of ordinary courtesy as so much?" inquired Banneker, surprised and amused. "From Junior? I certainly do.
He pictured himself clad as a lily of the field, unconscious of perfection as Herbert Cressey himself, in the public haunts of fashion and ease; through which vision there rose the searing prospect of thus encountering Io Welland. What was her married name? He had not even asked when the news was broken to him; had not wanted to ask; was done with all that for all time.
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