head cracked up against a wall by the likes of me…. Why, damn you, Ann!” he said in a grating voice, “what are you, anyway, but a damned dull lummox of a girl from Boston? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway, that I should sit here and take your snobby backwash and play second fiddle while two cheap Boston women praise Starwick up to the skies all day long and tell me what a great genius he is and how much finer than anyone else that ever lived? By God, it is to laugh!” he raved incoherently, blind with pain and passion, hindering his own progress by his foolish words of wounded pride. “—To see the damned affected æsthete get it all! You’re not worth it! You’re not worth it!” he cried bitterly. “—You call me a big hulking lout—and I feel more, know more, see more, have more life and power and understanding in me in a minute than the whole crowd of you will ever have—why, I’m so much better than the rest of you that—that—that—there’s no comparison!” he said lamely; and concluded: “Oh, you’re not worth it! You’re not worth it, Ann! Why should I get down on my knees to you this way, and worship you, and beg you for just one word of love and mercy—when you call me a big, hulking lout—and you are nothing but a rich, dull Boston snob—and you’re not worth it!” he cried desperately. “Why has it got to be like this, when you’re not worth it, Ann?”
Her face flushed, and in a moment, laughing her short and angry laugh, she said:
“God! I can see this is going to be a pleasant evening, with you raving like a crazy man and passing out your compliments already.” She looked at him with bitter eyes, and said sarcastically: “You say such nice things to people, don’t you? Oh, charming! Charming! Simply delightful!” She laughed her sudden angry laugh again. “God! I’ll never forget some of the nice things that you said to me!”
And already tortured by remorse and shame, the huge, indefinable swelter of anguish in his heart, he caught her hand, and pleaded miserably, humbly.
“Oh, I know! I know!—I’m sorry, Ann, and I’ll do better—so help me, God, I will!”
“Then why must you carry on like this?” she said. “Why do you curse and revile me and say such things about Francis, who is one of the finest people that ever lived and who has never said a word against you?”
“Oh, I know!” he groaned miserably, and smote his brow. “—I don’
