Now walking
along the street carrying his travelling bag, he remembered the sermon and
the thought and shook his head in doubt.
"What I have done here in this city must have affected thousands of
lives," he mused, and felt a quickening of his blood at just letting go of
his thoughts as he had not dared do since that day when, by breaking his
word to Sue, he had started on his career as a business giant.
He began to think of the quest on which he had started and had keen
satisfaction in the thought of what he should do.
"I will begin all over and come up to Truth through work," he told
himself. "I will leave the money hunger behind me, and if it returns I
will come back here to Chicago and see my fortune piled up and the men
rushing about the banks and the stock exchange and the court they pay to
such fools and brutes as I have been, and that will cure me."
Into the Illinois Central Station he went, a strange spectacle. A smile
came to his lips as he sat on a bench along the wall between an immigrant
from Russia and a small plump farmer's wife who held a banana in her hand
and gave bites of it to a rosy-cheeked babe lying in her arms. He, an
American multimillionaire, a man in the midst of his money-making, one who
had realised the American dream, to have sickened at the feast and to have
wandered out of a fashionable club with a bag in his hand and a roll of
bills in his pocket and to have come on this strange quest--to seek Truth,
to seek God.
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