It was only a mental justification he was seeking from himself-something that would enable him to bear his state as a righteous man.
One afternoon, five weeks before the Warren Street place closed up, he left the saloon to visit three or four places he saw advertised in the "Herald." One was down in Gold Street, and he visited that, but did not enter.

It was such a cheap looking place he felt that he could not abide it.

Another was on the Bowery, which he knew contained many showy resorts.

It was near Grand Street, and turned out to be very handsomely fitted up.

He talked around about investments for fully three-quarters of an hour with the proprietor, who maintained that his health was poor, and that was the reason he wished a partner.
"Well, now, just how much money would it take to buy a half interest here ?" said Hurstwood, who saw seven hundred dollars as his limit.
"Three thousand," said the man.
Hurstwood's jaw fell.
"Cash ?" he said.
"Cash." He tried to put on an air of deliberation, as one who might really buy; but his eyes showed gloom.