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It was indeed hard for Geoffrey Herepath to realise the full measure of his misfortune. But a little time before he had seen his way clear to the goal of his ambition. He had all the sanguine outlook of the inventor, but he had never been a mere dreamer of dreams, had never wasted his time and intelligence on Utopian speculation. His was a strongly practical nature, and it was always the working value of the machine that appealed to him.
Machinery! New and ingenious devices for the saving of labour, contrivances that turned waste material into articles of commerce! In these things he saw the way to fortune, to the employment of thousands of hands, to power in the country, to an honoured name amongst men. All these prizes of life Herepath would, he felt, be able to lay at Enid Harley's feet!