At what point, though, will Toll decide he’s had enough?

He admits that he gives frequent thought to retiring, a prospect that alarms his board members. “No one in this world is irreplaceable, but I think he’s as close as it gets,” says board member Robert Blank, also a longtime friend. Earlier this year, Toll’s board rejiggered his pay package to ensure that he would continue to receive bonuses during the downturn. But many shareholders balked, and the measure—and Toll’s renomination to the board—encountered significant opposition. “I think that’s a clear signal that shareholders of Toll Brothers are not happy with his leadership,” says Jennifer O’Dell, spokeswoman for the Laborers’ International Union of North America, which has pension money invested in Toll Brothers and has agitated against the bonus plan.

Bruce Toll scaled back his involvement in the company a decade ago and has since devoted himself to various other pursuits, such as financing movies and buying a stake in the Philadelphia Inquirer. But Bob Toll has never cared for any business except building, and he says he feels a responsibility to right his company. Friends say that this challenge has invigorated him.

“Bob would probably call it a well-disguised blessing,” says Richard Thaler, a retired investment banker who has known Toll for about 20 years. “He’s not happy where he is, but he’s in a good position relative to some of the other builders.”

In fact, stock analysts say that Toll Brothers could end up profiting over the long term from widespread misery. With a relatively low debt load and one of the largest cash reserves in the industry—roughly $1.5 billion, twice as much as its competitors’ on average—Toll Brothers seems to hold a decent position compared with others in its field. (In comparison, rival Hovnanian, ranked sixth in closings, has $119.9 million in cash, and Meritage, ranked 12th in closings, has $115 million.) While Toll has downsized some company divisions, he has kept his land-acquisition teams intact. “In the up markets, there are great opportunities to cash in your chips. In down markets, there’s great opportunity to build your chips,” he explains.

He’s waiting till the market hits bottom and then he’ll begin buying again. “We’re saving our powder for when blood runs in the streets,” Toll said in a conference call in December. “We hope it doesn’t happen, but if it does, we’ll put on the eye patch and get out the sword and run up the Jolly Roger and we’ll be out there.”

What remains to be seen, however, is what kind of company Toll Brothers will be when the crisis ends. Its luxury specialization, its great advantage during the long boom, may work against it during a recovery. The company refuses to lower its prices too much for fear of compromising its brand, which means it must accept the costs of carrying considerable inventory until demand returns. What happens, though, if the market for cheaper housing comes back before the luxury sector does? Or if buyers are more cautious about what they can afford next time? Then there’s a broader question: If the price of gas never returns to $2 a gallon, and people start considering the money—and carbon emissions—required to heat and air-condition a 16-room house, what becomes of the Toll Brothers ethic? The company’s executives say Toll Brothers is catering to universal appetites and has no plans to scale back its trademark homes.

Still, Bob Toll recognizes the dangers of stasis. “We’ve already started to change our patterns to some extent,” he tells me, pointing to his New York projects. He’s still not sure whether the high-rises are an experiment or a permanent departure. He’s wary of skyscrapers, because once you start building one, you can’t scale it back, and urban development is expensive. Still, he can read a price tag, and he can sense that times are changing.

On the other hand, daring got him into this mess, and daring will be what gets him out. Prices are down; interest rates are decent. All that’s required, he says, is for buyers to come back, to conquer their fears. “Nobody wants to be called a dope,” Toll tells me the morning I meet him at his office.

“The only thing we fear more than missing a good buy is being made to look like a fool.”

Toll’s telephone emits a loud beep, and his assistant’s voice pipes through a speaker.

“Joel,” she says, referring to Joel Rassman, the company’s chief financial officer, “wants to speak to you about WCI.”

Earlier in the morning, WCI Communities, another publicly traded luxury homebuilder, had issued a warning that it couldn’t cover its debts.

There is a pregnant pause: the prospect of a competitor going down; lots of potential ground. Toll’s eyes widen, as if glimpsing a wisp of future fortune.

“Okay,” he says to me, flashing a grin, “let’s wrap this up!”