Page:Levenson - Butterfly Man.djvu/45

Rh "That's because you are not sufficiently sensitive yet. You're too young. You haven't awakened. When you have chosen a career and understand yourself fully, you'll appreciate these lovely days and nights, this freedom from worry. La tells me you're to be a dancer. You are finely built and graceful. When you learn to dance with your mind as well as with your feet, you will find a happy rhythm in your life. Now if you will permit me to analyze you a bit further, you are trying and trying vainly to understand what we are, and why."

Ken chuckled. "You talk just like Mr. Lowell." He tossed his head in the direction of the music room.

"I do. He and I are old … friends. Nothing deeper than friendship, of course. We both love beauty. He is playing that organ now because he wants to create beauty. He is no longer young as you are. It's sweet to be young enough not to know and to be saddened by the fear of too much knowing. Listen … isn't it beautiful?"

The music sobbed, sighed, ended.

"Kenneth, learn to accept yourself such as you are. Face it. If you don't—I—I'm afraid for you—"

"But I—"

"You can't understand. I know." He stopped short. The night was very still. A faint, cool breeze sprang up. Gregory Gregg brushed back his long, black hair.

"For your own sake, Kenneth, stay with us. If you don't—you'll be very unhappy—tragedy may even come into your life."

Kenneth nervously turned away.

"Do you believe me?" Gregg asked.

Kenneth could not reply.

"If you do—" Gregg continued, "stay with La." Gregg