I didn't know what Niflheim meant, but I have ascertained since that it is a Scandinavian word describing a region of cold and darkness, a place, therefore, where people might easily get lost.
Well, it might have suited certain conditions I had then in my mind, but Mr.Curtis will never go to Scandinavian mythology when he wants to describe New York.

To my thinking, it will figure in his mind as more akin to Elysium." Clancy led the applause with sardonic appreciation, whereupon his chief allowed a severe eye to dwell on him, though his glance traveled instantly to the egg-shell dome of Otto Schmidt, whose aid had been invaluable in stilling certain qualms in the breast of authority.
"My singularly boisterous and most esteemed friend, Mr.Clancy," he continued, "seems to be delighted by the success of that trope.

I might gladden your hearts with some which he has coined, because the bride and bridegroom owe more, far more, to him than they imagine at this moment.

I remember----" A loud "No, no!" from Clancy indicated that revelations were imminent.
"Well," said Steingall, "I forget just what he said on one memorable night when four semi-intoxicated stokers held up a downtown saloon, but I do wish to assure you of this--if it were not for Clancy's genius as a detective, and his splendid qualities of heart and mind as a man, this wedding might never have taken place, or, if that is putting a strain on your imagination, let me say that its principals would have encountered difficulties which are now, happily, the dim ghosts of what might have been." Curtis took an opportunity later to ask Steingall what those cryptic words meant, and the Chief of the Bureau set at rest a doubt which had long perplexed him.
"It was Clancy who prompted the idea of mixing up the two branches of the inquiry," he said.

"Under that wizened skin of his he has a heart of gold.