effort, the futility of striving, the emptiness of achievement,
possesses him frequently, and in his dark days he pays the penalty of
his points of view. If only he could see, could understand--.

I turned from the window and again sat down in my corner of the sofa
and motioned him to take his seat.

"Don't let's argue to-night. I'm pretty tired and argument would do
no good. We'd just say things we shouldn't. You said just now you
doubted if you knew why I was here. I may not be sure of all my
reasons, but one of them is, I wanted to get away from--there." My
hand made motion in a vague direction intended for my former
neighborhood.

"Do you find this section of the city a satisfactory change?"
Selwyn's tone was ironic. He looked for a moment into the eyes I
raised to his, then turned away and, hands in his pockets, began to
walk up and down the room. When he spoke again his voice had changed.

"Don't mind anything I say to-night. I shouldn't have come. I'm a
bit raw yet that you should have done this without telling me. You
have a right to do as you choose, of course, only--. Besides getting
away from your old life--were there other reasons?"

"Not very definite ones." Into my face came surge of color, and,
turning, I cut off the light in the lamp behind me. "When one is in
a parade one can't see what it looks like, very often doesn't
understand where it is going. I want to see the one I was in, see
from the sidewalk the kind of human beings who are in it, and what
they are doing with their time and energies and opportunities and