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She has offered this holding to her brother, Mr. Davis Leroy, several times in the past but he has shown absolutely no interest in purchasing Miss Amy's shares. I can understand Mr. Leroy's reasoning. He already owns seventy-five per cent of the company, and I dare say he feels he has no need to worry about the other twenty-five per cent, which incidentally, was a legacy from their late father. However, Miss Amy Leroy is still keen to dispose of her stock as it has never paid a dividend!

Abel was not surprised to hear that.

'Mr. Leroy has indicated that he has no objection to her selling the stock, and she feels that at her age she would rather have a little cash to spend now than wait in the hope that the group may one day prove profitable. With that in mind, Mr. Rosnovski, I thoucht I would apprise you of the situation in case you might know of someone with an interest in the hotel trade and, therefore, in the purchase of my client's shares.'

'How much is -Miss Leroy hoping to realise for her stock?' asked Abel.

'Oh, I feel she'd be happy to let them go for as little as sixty-five thousand dollars.'

'Sixty-five thousand dollars is a rather high price for a stock that has never paid a dividend,' said Abel, 'and has no hope of doing so for some years to come.'

'Ah,' said Curtis Fenton, 'but you must remember that the value of the eleven hotels should also be taken into consideration!'

'But control of the company would still remain in the hands of Mr. Leroy, which makes Miss Leroy's twenty-five per cent holding nothing but pieces of paper.'

'Come, come, Mr. Rosnovski, twenty-five per cent of eleven hotels would be a very valuable holding for only sixtyfive thousand dollars.'

'Not while Davis Leroy has overall control. Offer Miss Leroy forty thousand dollars, Mr. Fenton, and I may be able to find you someone who is interested!'

'You don't think that person might go a little higher, do you?' Mr. Fenton's eyebrows raised on the word 'higher'.

'Not a penny more, Mr. Fenton!'

The bank manager brought his fingertips delicately together, pleased with his appraisal of Abel.

'In the circumstances, I can only ask Miss Amy what her attitude would be to such an offer. I will contact you again as soon as she has instructed me.'

After leaving Curtis Fenton's office, Abel's heart was beating as fast as when he had entered. He hurried back to the hotel to double check on his own personal holdings. His brokerage account stood at thirty-three thousand one hundred and twelve dollars, and his personal account at three thousand and eight dollars. Abel then tried to carry out a normal day's work. He found it hard to concentrate for wondering how Miss Amy Leroy would react to the bid and daydreaming about what he would do if he held a twenty-five per cent interest in the Richmond Group.

He hesitated before informing Davis Leroy of his bid, fearful that the genial Texan might view his ambitions as a threat. But after a couple of days during which he considered the matter carefully, he decided the fairest thing to do would be to call Davis Leroy and acquaint him with his intentions.

'I want you to know why I am doing this, Mr. Leroy. I believe the Richmond Group has a great future, and you can be sure that I shall work all the harder for you if I know my own money is also involved.' He paused. 'But if you want to take up that twenty-five per cent yourself, I shall naturally understand.'

To his surprise, the escape ladder was not grasped.

'Well, see here, Abel, if you have that much confidence in the group, go ahead, son, and buy Amy out. I'd be proud to have you for a partner. You've earned it. By the way, I'll be up next week for the Red Cubs game. See you then.'

Abel was jubilant. 'Thank you, Davis, you'll never have cause to regret your decision.'

'I'm sure I won't, partner.'

Abel returned to the bank a week later. This time, it was he who asked to see the manager. Once again he sat in the green leather button chair, and waited for Mr. Fenton to speak.

'I am surprised to find,' began Curtis Fenton not looking at all surprised, 'that Miss Leroy will accept the bid of forty thousand dollars for her twenty-five per cent holding in the Richmoiid Group.' He paused before looking up at Abel. 'As I have now secured her agreement, I must ask if you are in a position to disclose your buyer?'

'Yes,' said Abel confidently. 'I will be the principal.'

'I see, Mr. Rosnovski,'again not showing any surprise.'May I ask how you propose to find the forty thousand dollars?'

'I shall liquidate my stock holdings and release the spare cash in my personal account, which will leave me short of about four thousand dollars. I hoped that you would be willing to loan me that sum, as you are so confident that the Richmond Group stock is undervalued. In any case, the four thousand dollars probably represents nothing more than the bank's commission on the deal.'

Curtis Fenton blinked and frowned. Gentlemen did not make that sort of remark in his office : it stung all the more because Abel had the sum exactly right. 'Will you give me a little more time to consider your proposal, Mr. Rosnovski, and then I will come back to you?'

'If you wait long enough, I won't need your loan,' said Abel. 'My other investments will soon be worth the full forty thousand, the way the market is moving at the moment.'

Abel had to wait a further week to be told that Continental Trust was willing to back him. He immediately cleared both his accounts and borrowed a little under four thousand dollars to make up the shortfall on the forty thousand.

Within six months, Abel had paid off his four thousand loan by careful buying and selling of stock from March to August 1929, some of the best days the stock market was ever to know.

By September, both his accounts were slightly ahead again - he even had enough to buy a new Buick - while he was now the owner of twenty-five per cent of the Richmond Group of hotels. Abel was pleased to have acquired such a firm holding in Davis Leroy's empire. It gave him the confidence to pursue his daughter and the other seventy-five per cent, Early in October, he invited Melanie to a programme of Mozart at the Chicago Symphony Hall. Donning his smartest suit, which only emphasised he was gaining some weight, and wearing his first silk tie, he felt confident as he glanced in the mirror that the evening was to be a success. After the concert was over Abel avoided the Richmond, excellent though its food had become, and took Melanie to The Loop for dinner. He was particularly careful to talk only of economics and politics, two subjects about which he knew she was obliged to accept he was greatly the more knowledgeable. Finally, he asked her back for a drink in his rooms. It was the first time she had seen them, and she was both piqued and surprised by their smartness.

Abel poured the Coca-Cola which she requested, dropped two'cubes of ice into the bubbly liquid and gained confidence from the smile he was rewarded with as he passed her the glass. He couldn't help staring at her slim, crossed legs for more than a polite second. He poured himself a bourbon.

'Thank you, Abel, for a wonderful evening.'

He sat down beside her and swirled the drink in his glass reflectively.

'For many years, I heard no music. When I did, Mozart spoke to my heart as no other composer has done!'

'How very middle-European you sound sometimes, Abel!' She pulled the edge of her silk dress, which Abel was sitting on, free. 'Who would have thought a hotel manager would give a damn for Mozart?'

'One of my ancestors, the first Baron Rosnovski,' said Abel, 'once met the maestro, and he became a close friend of the family so I have always felt he was part of my life.'

Melanie's smile was unfathomable. Abel leaned sideways and kissed her cheek just above the ear, where her fair hair was drawn back from her face. She continued the conversation without giving the slightest indication that she had even been aware of his action.

'Frederick Stock captured the mood of the third movement to perfection, wouldn't you say?'

Abel tried the kiss again. This time she turned her face towards him and allowed herself to be kissed on the lips. Then she drew away.

'I think I ought to be getting back to the university!'

'But you've only just arrived,' said Abel, dismayed.

'Yes, I know, but I have to be up early in the morning. I have a heavy day ahead of me!'

Abel kissed her again. She fell back on the couch and Abel tried to move his hand on to her breast., She broke quickly from the kiss and pushed him away.

'I must be going, Abel,' she insisted.

'Oh, come on,'he said, 'you don't have to go yet,' and once again he tried to kiss her.

This time she stopped him by pushing him away more firmly.

'Abel, what do you think you are doing? Because you give me the occasional meal and take me to a concert, doesn't mean you have the right to maul me!'

'But we've been going out together for months,' said Abel. 'I didn't think you would mind.'

'We have not been going out together for months, Abel. I cat with you occasionally in my father's dining room, but you should not construe that to mean we have been going out together for months!

'I'm sorry,' said Abel. 'The last thing I wanted you to think was that I was mauling you. I only wanted to touch you.'

'I would never a - Row a man to touch me,' she said, 'unless I was going to marry him!'

'But I want to marry you,'said Abel quietly.

Melanie burst out laughing.

'What's so funny about that?' Abel asked, reddening.

'Don't be silly, Abel, I could never marry you.'

'Why not?' demanded Abel, shocked by the vehemence in her voice.

'It would never do for a Southern lady to marry a first generation Polish immigrant,' she replied, sitting up very straight and pushing her silk dress back into place.

'But I am a Baron,'sald Abel, a little haughtily.

Melanie burst out laughing again. 'You don't think anybody believes that, do you Abel? Don't you realise the whole staff laughs behind your back whenever you mention your title ?' He was stunned, and felt sick, his face draining of its red embarrassment. 'They all laugh at me behind my back?' His slight accent sounded more pronounced.

'Yes,' she said. 'Surely you know what your nickname in the hotel is? The Chicago Baron!

Abel was speechless.

'Now don't be silly and get all self-conscious about it, I think you've done a wonderful job for Daddy, and I know he admires you, but I could never marry you.'

Abel sat quietly. 'I could never marry you,' he repeated.

'Of course not. Daddy likes you, but he would never agree to having you as a son-in-law.'

'I'm sorry to have offended you,' said Abel.

'You haven't, Abel. I'm flattered. Now let's forget you ever mentioned the subject. Perhaps you would be kind enough to take me home?'

She rose and strode towards the door, while Abel remained seated, still stunned. Somehow he managed to push himself up slowly and help Melanie on with her cloak. He became conscious of his limp as they walked along the corridor together. They went down in the lift and he took her home in a cab: neither spoke. While the taxi waited, he accompanied her to the front gate of her dormitory. He kissed her hand.

'I do hope this doesn't mean we can't still be friends,' said Melanie.

'Of course not!'

'Thank you for taking me to the concert, Abel. I'm sure you'll have no trouble in finding a nice Polish girl to marry you. Good night.'

'Goodbye,'said Abel.

Abel did not think there would be any real trouble on the New York Stock market until one of his guests asked if he might settle his hotel bill with stock. Abel held only a small amount of stock himself since nearly all his money was tied up in the Richmond Group, but he took his broker's advice and sold off his remaining shares -at a small loss, relieved that the bulk of his savings was secure in bricks and mortar. He had not taken as close an interest in the day-to-day movement of the Dow-Jones as he would have if all his capital had still been in the market.

The hotel did well in the first part of the year, and Abel considered he was set fair to achieve his profit forecast of over twenty-five thousand dollars for 1929, and kept Davis Leroy in constant touch with the way things were turning out. But when the crash came in October the hotel was half empty. Abel placed a call through to Davis Leroy on Black Tuesday. The Texan sounded depressed and preoccupied and would not be drawn into making decisions about the laying off of hotel staff which Abel now considered urgent. '

'Stick with it, Abel,' he said. 'I'll come up next week and we'll sort it out together then - or we'll try to.'

Abel did not like the ring of the last phrase. 'What's the problem, Davis? Is it anything I can help with?'

'Not for the time being!'

Abel remained puzzled. 'Why don't you just give me the authority to get on with it, and I can brief you when you come tip next week?'

'It's not quite as easy as that, Abel. I didn't want to discuss my problems over the phone, but the bank is giving me a little trouble over my losses in the stock market, and they are threatening to make me sell the hotels if I can't raise enough money to cover my debts.'

Abel went cold.

'Nothing for you to worry about, my boy,' continued Davis, sounding unconvincing. 'I will fill you in on all the details when I come up to Chicago next week. I am sure I can fix up something by then.'

Abel heard the phone click and could feel his whole body sweating. His first reaction was to wonder how he could assist Davis. He put a call through to Curtis Fenton and prised out of him the name of the banker who controlled the Richmond Group, feeling that if he could see him it might make things easier for his friend.

Abel called Davis several times during the next few days to tell him that things were going from bad to worse and that decisions must be made, but he sounded more and more preoccupied and was still unwilling to make any decision. When matters started getting out of control, Abel made a decision. He asked his secretary to get the banker who controlled the Richmond Group on die phone.