He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. Nothing ensued. She was discussing one of those modern advanced plays with a remarkable, with an extraordinary, confidence. Mike was showing his territorial instincts, brought out by the fact that he was drunk. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon.
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