What's the use? I
guess we all do the best we can--the best the system'll let us."
And she was speaking the exact truth. She did not reason out
the causes of a state of mind so alien to the experiences of
the comfortable classes that they could not understand it,
would therefore see in it hardness of heart. In fact, the
heart has nothing to do with this attitude in those who are
exposed to the full force of the cruel buffetings of the
storms that incessantly sweep the wild and wintry sea of
active life. They lose the sense of the personal. Where they
yield to anger and revenge upon the instrument the blow fate
has used it to inflict, the resentment is momentary. The mood
of personal vengeance is characteristic of stupid people
leading uneventful lives--of comfortable classes, of remote
rural districts. She again moved to go, this time putting out
her hand with a smile. He said, with an awkwardness most
significant in one so supple of mind and manner:
"I want to talk to you. I've got something to
propose--something that'll interest you. Will you give
me--say, about an hour?"
She debated, then smiled. "You will have me arrested if I refuse?"
He flushed scarlet. "You're giving me what's coming to me,"
said he. "The reason--one reason--I've got on so well is that
I've never been a liar."
"No--you never were that."
"You, too. It's always a sign of bravery, and bravery's the
one thing I respect.
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