He recalled the long struggle, the painful, patient waiting, the stern self-denial.

He had deliberately chosen between pleasure and success,--between the present and the future.

He had denied himself to achieve his fortune, and he had succeeded.
At first, it had been for her; then Success had become dear to him for itself, had ever grown larger and dearer as he advanced, until now--A thrill of pride ran through him, which changed into a shiver as it brought those accursed, staring, ghastly figures straight before his eyes.
He had great trouble to drive the figures away.

It was only when he thought fixedly of Catherine Trelane as she used to be that they disappeared.

She was a vision then to banish all else.