Page:Firecrackers a realistic novel.pdf/242

 knew at last what I might do: I might strive for perfection, so far as was humanly possible. Already a fine athlete, I determined to make my body the most agile in the world. Heard I of a feat attempted by another I accomplished it too. I was already acquainted with many languages. I had waded through all the philosophies. Lately, I have mastered the art of humility, together with an enormous amount of prowess in the field of salesmanship, by engaging in small clerkships and certain of the so-called inferior trades. Also I have acquired enough technical experience of a social nature so that I manage to get along fairly well with the puppets. I was well on my way towards my goal of perfection. I was light-hearted, carving out a form of existence which might have proved an irresistible model to other young men, when. . . I met you. Now I have lost my freedom again. Once more I am plunged in misery, suffer with cold sweats, endure the sense of fear that masters a man no longer master of himself. In short I am experiencing anew all the awful agony of love. I tried escape. I sought to run away. Gunnar groaned. It was impossible. I felt drawn back involuntarily. I cannot get along without you and yet my reason tells me that I am miserable every instant I am with you. What am I to do?

I suppose, Campaspe replied, as if she were reflecting, that the flaw in your system—and every sys-