He was not at all vague intellectually--that is, in the matter of the conduct of his business--but dandified and at times remote.

He had an office in one of the best blocks in Dearborn Street, which he reached in a reserved, speculative mood every morning at nine, unless something important called him down-town earlier.

It so happened that he had drawn up the deeds and agreements for the real-estate company that sold Cowperwood his lots at Thirty-seventh Street and Michigan Avenue, and when they were ready he journeyed to the latter's office to ask if there were any additional details which Cowperwood might want to have taken into consideration.

When he was ushered in, Cowperwood turned to him his keen, analytical eyes and saw at once a personality he liked.

McKibben was just remote and artistic enough to suit him.