A brief silence followed. Then three waiters appeared, bearing three plates of lobster Newburg. Delmonico’s was famous for it.

“I shall say grace,” said Gabriel Love. And putting his fingers together, he gently prayed: “Oh Lord, we thank Thee for this Thy gift of lobster Newburg. And grant us also, if it be Thy will, control of the Hudson Ohio Railroad.”

“But we ain’t wanting control of the Hudson Ohio,” Sean softly objected.

“True,” said Gabriel Love, “but the Almighty doesn’t need to know that yet.”

Was it all right? It seemed to be. Frank glanced at Sean for reassurance. Sean smiled at him.

“What I like,” said Sean, “is that it’s all perfectly legal. You buy shares, MacDuff panics, the market gets excited, you and Master sell at a profit. Nothing wrong with any of that. And it’ll work. So long as MacDuff doesn’t smell a rat.”

“That’s why I waited until he was away,” said Gabriel Love. “If he could walk into Master’s office and confront him face to face, if he could even reach him by telegraph, my plan falls to the ground. But if he can’t, then he must be uncertain, and uncertainty breeds fear. He will be off balance as well. It’s his favorite granddaughter that’s getting married and MacDuff is an emotional man.” He sighed. “Human nature, gentlemen. It is original sin that leads men to misfortune, every time.” He gazed at them both, serenely. “I am a speculator in the market, gentlemen, and that is part of God’s plan. Men only learn through suffering. So I punish human weakness, and God rewards me.”

“Amen,” said Sean O’Donnell with a grin.

They had finished their lobster. Charlotte russe was proposed, and accepted, to be followed by brandied pears. The conversation turned to the theater, and from there to horse racing. A French dessert wine was served. Frank felt a little unwell; his brow was clammy. He decided he was eating too much, and held back when an extra portion of the charlotte russe was offered.

“So,” Sean was saying to Gabriel Love, “after this trick, what are you going to do next?”

“Next?” Mr. Love surveyed the table placidly. “Nothing, Mr. O’Donnell. I shall do nothing.”

“That’s not like you,” said Sean.

“I am retiring,” announced Gabriel Love. “I am devoting myself wholly to good works.”

“Lost your taste for the market?”

“Too many regulations, Mr. O’Donnell. Too many bankers like Morgan. They’re too mighty for me. And besides,” he shook his head sadly, “they are taking the life, and sweetness, out of the business.”

There was a pause, while the two men contemplated the former sweetness of life.

“The sixties,” said Sean O’Donnell. “Those were the days.”

“True,” said Gabriel Love.

“You had things wrapped up,” said Sean. “You and Boss Tweed.”

“Our system, back then,” said Love, “approached perfection.”