any man! And yet . . .—The things I meant to do!"
His thoughts went to his Socialism, to his red-hot ambition of world mending. He marvelled at the vistas he had discovered since those days.
"Not for us— Not for us.
"We must perish in the wilderness.—Some day. Somewhen. But not for us. . . .
"Come to think, it is all the Child. The future is the Child. The Future. What are we—any of us—but servants or traitors to that? . . . ******* "Natural Selection—it follows . . . this way is happiness . . . must be. There can be no other."
He sighed. "To last a lifetime, that is.
"And yet—it is almost as if Life had played me a trick—promised so much—given so little! . . .
"No! One must not look at it in that way! That will not do! That will not do.
"Career! In itself it is a career—the most important career in the world. Father! Why should I want more?
"And . . . Ethel! No wonder she seemed shallow . . . She has been shallow. No wonder she was restless. Unfulfilled . . . What had she to do? She was drudge, she was toy . . .
"Yes. This is life. This alone is life! For this we were made and born. All these other things—all other things—they are only a sort of play . . .
