A glow had sprung to his face, and as he spoke he leaned his elbow on the table, and closing his eyes inhaled the delicious aroma of his cigar.  Finance interested him always—­wealth in its material mass had a tremendous attraction for him, and he loved not only the sound of figures but the clink of coin.  Though he was a lavish liver when it suited his impulses, the modern regard for money as a concrete possession—­a personal distinction—­was strong in his blood; but here, as in other ways, he was redeemed from positive vulgarity by the very candour with which he confessed his weakness.  He drifted presently into stocks, and they sat talking until eleven o’clock, when Adams, after glancing in surprise at the hour, remarked, with a laugh, that he had forgotten he no longer boasted the constitution of his college days.  It had been a pleasant evening to both, and as Kemper threw off his coat a little later, he found himself reflecting, not without wonder, that the quiet—­the absolute inaction of the last few hours had refreshed rather than bored him.  On the whole he was inclined to admit that he liked Adams better than any man he knew—­liked his assured self-possession, his indifference to small creature comforts; liked, too, the quiet tolerance which characterised his human relations—­and he impulsively determined that he would arrange to see him often during the next few years.  It was time now, he concluded with an admirable midnight resolution, while he struggled in exasperation to unfasten his collar, that he himself should begin to pay a due regard to his health—­to restrict his indulgences; and he drew an agreeable picture of the consolation that Adams’ friendship might afford to an abstemious man of middle age.  “By Jove—­confound this button—­there, I’ve twisted it like the deuce—­by Jove, it is refreshing to be thrown with a chap who is interested in something besides women and horses—­who finds other objects—­or subjects if you choose—­suffice for his entertainment.”  For the first time in his life he found himself wishing regretfully that at least a share of his own enjoyments had assumed a character which belonged less exclusively to the external world.  The joy in knowledge, the delight in contemplation were unknown to him, though he was dimly aware that for another man they might prove to be an unfailing, a permanent solace.  But his virtues were the magnificent virtues of the animal, and amid the many warring impulses of the body there was but little room for a more gracious development of the soul.  He had lived for the world and the world had repaid him as she repays all her lovers with the fruit which is rarely bitter before the fortieth year.

Adams, meanwhile, had walked rapidly home, thinking with enthusiasm that Kemper was a thoroughly good fellow.  His social pleasures were few, and he had enjoyed the fine wine and the choice cigars as a man enjoys a taste for luxury which he seldom gratifies.  He had expected to find Connie still out, but to his surprise there was a sound on the staircase as he entered the front door, and she came rapidly to meet him, her blonde hair hanging upon her shoulders and the soiled white silk dressing-gown she wore trailing on the carpeted steps behind her.