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"
Damn
Hermann
!
"
he
broke
out
good
-
naturedly
.
"
What
I
want
to
know
is
when
you
’
re
going
to
get
married
.
Also
,
you
find
out
from
your
Hermann
if
he
will
deign
to
permit
you
to
accept
a
wedding
present
from
me
.
"
He
mused
over
the
incident
after
she
had
gone
,
and
once
or
twice
broke
out
into
laughter
that
was
bitter
as
he
saw
his
sister
and
her
betrothed
,
all
the
members
of
his
own
class
and
the
members
of
Ruth
’
s
class
,
directing
their
narrow
little
lives
by
narrow
little
formulas
—
herd
-
creatures
,
flocking
together
and
patterning
their
lives
by
one
another
’
s
opinions
,
failing
of
being
individuals
and
of
really
living
life
because
of
the
childlike
formulas
by
which
they
were
enslaved
.
He
summoned
them
before
him
in
apparitional
procession
:
Bernard
Higginbotham
arm
in
arm
with
Mr
.
Butler
,
Hermann
von
Schmidt
cheek
by
jowl
with
Charley
Hapgood
,
and
one
by
one
and
in
pairs
he
judged
them
and
dismissed
them
—
judged
them
by
the
standards
of
intellect
and
morality
he
had
learned
from
the
books
.
Vainly
he
asked
:
Where
are
the
great
souls
,
the
great
men
and
women
?
He
found
them
not
among
the
careless
,
gross
,
and
stupid
intelligences
that
answered
the
call
of
vision
to
his
narrow
room
.
He
felt
a
loathing
for
them
such
as
Circe
must
have
felt
for
her
swine
.
When
he
had
dismissed
the
last
one
and
thought
himself
alone
,
a
late
-
comer
entered
,
unexpected
and
unsummoned
.
Martin
watched
him
and
saw
the
stiff
-
rim
,
the
square
-
cut
,
double
-
breasted
coat
and
the
swaggering
shoulders
,
of
the
youthful
hoodlum
who
had
once
been
he
.
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"
You
were
like
all
the
rest
,
young
fellow
,
"
Martin
sneered
.
"
Your
morality
and
your
knowledge
were
just
the
same
as
theirs
.
You
did
not
think
and
act
for
yourself
.
Your
opinions
,
like
your
clothes
,
were
ready
made
;
your
acts
were
shaped
by
popular
approval
.
You
were
cock
of
your
gang
because
others
acclaimed
you
the
real
thing
.
You
fought
and
ruled
the
gang
,
not
because
you
liked
to
,
—
you
know
you
really
despised
it
,
—
but
because
the
other
fellows
patted
you
on
the
shoulder
.
You
licked
Cheese
-
Face
because
you
wouldn
’
t
give
in
,
and
you
wouldn
’
t
give
in
partly
because
you
were
an
abysmal
brute
and
for
the
rest
because
you
believed
what
every
one
about
you
believed
,
that
the
measure
of
manhood
was
the
carnivorous
ferocity
displayed
in
injuring
and
marring
fellow
-
creatures
’
anatomies
.
Why
,
you
whelp
,
you
even
won
other
fellows
’
girls
away
from
them
,
not
because
you
wanted
the
girls
,
but
because
in
the
marrow
of
those
about
you
,
those
who
set
your
moral
pace
,
was
the
instinct
of
the
wild
stallion
and
the
bull
-
seal
.
Well
,
the
years
have
passed
,
and
what
do
you
think
about
it
now
?
"
As
if
in
reply
,
the
vision
underwent
a
swift
metamorphosis
.
The
stiff
-
rim
and
the
square
-
cut
vanished
,
being
replaced
by
milder
garments
;
the
toughness
went
out
of
the
face
,
the
hardness
out
of
the
eyes
;
and
,
the
face
,
chastened
and
refined
,
was
irradiated
from
an
inner
life
of
communion
with
beauty
and
knowledge
.
The
apparition
was
very
like
his
present
self
,
and
,
as
he
regarded
it
,
he
noted
the
student
-
lamp
by
which
it
was
illuminated
,
and
the
book
over
which
it
pored
.
He
glanced
at
the
title
and
read
,
"
The
Science
of
AEsthetics
.
"
Next
,
he
entered
into
the
apparition
,
trimmed
the
student
-
lamp
,
and
himself
went
on
reading
"
The
Science
of
AEsthetics
.
"
On
a
beautiful
fall
day
,
a
day
of
similar
Indian
summer
to
that
which
had
seen
their
love
declared
the
year
before
,
Martin
read
his
"
Love
-
cycle
"
to
Ruth
.
It
was
in
the
afternoon
,
and
,
as
before
,
they
had
ridden
out
to
their
favorite
knoll
in
the
hills
.
Now
and
again
she
had
interrupted
his
reading
with
exclamations
of
pleasure
,
and
now
,
as
he
laid
the
last
sheet
of
manuscript
with
its
fellows
,
he
waited
her
judgment
.
She
delayed
to
speak
,
and
at
last
she
spoke
haltingly
,
hesitating
to
frame
in
words
the
harshness
of
her
thought
.
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"
I
think
they
are
beautiful
,
very
beautiful
,
"
she
said
;
"
but
you
can
’
t
sell
them
,
can
you
?
You
see
what
I
mean
,
"
she
said
,
almost
pleaded
.
"
This
writing
of
yours
is
not
practical
.
Something
is
the
matter
—
maybe
it
is
with
the
market
—
that
prevents
you
from
earning
a
living
by
it
.
And
please
,
dear
,
don
’
t
misunderstand
me
.
I
am
flattered
,
and
made
proud
,
and
all
that
—
I
could
not
be
a
true
woman
were
it
otherwise
—
that
you
should
write
these
poems
to
me
.
But
they
do
not
make
our
marriage
possible
.
Don
’
t
you
see
,
Martin
?
Don
’
t
think
me
mercenary
.
It
is
love
,
the
thought
of
our
future
,
with
which
I
am
burdened
.
A
whole
year
has
gone
by
since
we
learned
we
loved
each
other
,
and
our
wedding
day
is
no
nearer
.
Don
’
t
think
me
immodest
in
thus
talking
about
our
wedding
,
for
really
I
have
my
heart
,
all
that
I
am
,
at
stake
.
Why
don
’
t
you
try
to
get
work
on
a
newspaper
,
if
you
are
so
bound
up
in
your
writing
?
Why
not
become
a
reporter
?
—
for
a
while
,
at
least
?
"
"
It
would
spoil
my
style
,
"
was
his
answer
,
in
a
low
,
monotonous
voice
.
"
You
have
no
idea
how
I
’
ve
worked
for
style
.
"
"
But
those
storiettes
,
"
she
argued
.
"
You
called
them
hack
-
work
.
You
wrote
many
of
them
.
Didn
’
t
they
spoil
your
style
?
"