Page:The torrent and The night before.djvu/53

 Pulsed and swayed with a warmth—or something That seemed so then to my feet—and thrilled me With a quick, dizzy joy; and the women And men, like marvellous things of magic, Floated and laughed and sang by my shoulder, Sent with a wizard motion. Through it And over and under it all there sounded A murmur of life, like bees; and I listened And laughed again to think of the flower That grew, blood red, for me! This fellow Was one of the popular sort who flourish Unruffled where gods would fall. For a conscience He carried a snug deceit that made him The man of the time and the place, whatever The time or the place might be:—were he sounding With a genial craft that cloaked its purpose, Nigh to itself, the depth of a woman Fooled with his brainless art,—or sending The midnight home with songs and bottles,— The cad was there, and his ease forever Shone with the smooth and slippery polish That tells the snake.—That night he drifted Into an up-town haunt and ordered— Whatever it was—with a soft assurance That made me mad as I stood behind him, Gripping his death, and waited.—Coward, I think, is the name the world has given To men like me; but I'll swear I never Thought of my own disgrace when I shot him Yes, in the back;—I know it. I know it Now, but what if I do? As I watched him Lying there dead in the scattered sawdust, Wet with a day's blown froth, I noted That things were still:—that the walnut tables, Where men but a moment before were sitting, Were gone;—that a screen of something around me Shut them out of my sight. But the gilded