Whenever he won a dollar he had risked a dollar.
In person Mr.Bayard was slim, elegant, thoroughbred, with blood as red and pure of strain as the blood of a racing horse.

To see him was to realize the silk and steel whereof he was compounded.

There was a vanity about him, too; but it was a regal vanity, as though a king were vain.
His brow was full and grave, his face dignified, his eye thoughtful, and he knew men in the dark by feel of bark, as woodmen know a tree.

He stepped about with a high carriage of the head, as might one who has prides well founded.

His health was even, his nerves were true; he owned a military courage that remained cool with victory, steady with defeat.
It was these which rendered Mr.Bayard the Bourse-force men accounted him, and compelled consideration even from folk most powerful whenever they would float an enterprise or foray a field of stocks.