The Washington herald., 1922-07-07
cortinaed from Yesterday.

Continued from Yesterday.
Anthony: It's rrue. Natural born
etich-worshipper. Take art
Maury: Let's order. He'll be
Anthony: Sure. Let's order. 1 told
him
Maury: Here he comes. Look
he's going to bump that waiter. (he
lifts his finger as a signal-lifts IL as
though It were soft and friendly
cIaw) Here y'are. Caramel.
A New Voice: (FieTcely) Hello
Maury. Hello. Anthony Comstock
Patch. How Is old Adams grand
son. Debutantes still after you
Ell?
lin person Richard Caramel is
short and fair-he is to be bald at
IS. He has yellowish eyes-one OF
them starinGly clear, the other
OPAQUE as muddy poland
bulging brow like a funny-paper
baby. He bulges in other places
his paunch bulges propheticalIy'
his words have an air OF bulEing
from his mouth. even his dinner
coat pockets bulge, as though from
contamination. with dog-earned
collection OF time tables. programs
and miscellaneous scraps-on these
ne takes his notes with great
screenings up Of his unmatched yell
low eyes and motions of silence
with his dlsengaGed left hand.
When he reaches the table he
shakes hands with Anthony and
NTaury. He is one of those men
who invariably shake hands. even
with people whom they have seen
an hour before)
Anthony: Hello. Carmel. Glad
you're here. We needed a comic
relief.
Maury: You're late. Been racing
the postman down the block? ?
We've been clawInE over your
character.
Dick Chxing Anthony eagerly
with the bright eye): whatd you
say? Tell me and I'll write il
one this afternoon.
Maury: Noble aesthete. And l
poured alcohol into my stomach.
Dick: l don't doubt it. bet you
two have been sitting here for an
hour talking about liquor
Anthony: We never pass out. my
heardleSS DOy.
Maury: We never go home with
ladies we meet when We're lit.
Anthony: All in all our parties
are characterized by certain
naughty distinction.
Dick: The particularly silly sort
who boast about being tanks"
Trouble is you're both in the
eighteenth century. School of the
old English squire. Drink quietly
until you roll under the table.
Never have a good time. Oh. no.
that isn't done at all.
Anthony: This from chapter six.
I'll bet.
Dick: Going to the theater?
Maury: Yes. We intend to srend
the evening doing some deep think
ing over Of life's problems. The
thing is terseIy called The Wom-
an" I presume that she will pay"
Anthony: My God, Is that what
II Is? Let's 60 to the Follies again
Maury: I'm tired of il. I've seen
IL three times. ITO Dick) The
frst time. we went out after act
one and found a most amazing bar.
When we came back we entered
the wrong theater.
Anthony: Had a protracted dis
pute with a scared young couple we
thought were in our seats.
Dick (as though talking tn him
self: I think-that when I've done
another novel and a play. and
maybe a book of short stories. I'll
do a musical comedy.
Maury: I know-with intellect
ual lyrics that no one will listen
to. And all the critics will groan
fore" And I shall go on shining
as a brilliantly meaningless figure
in a meaningless world.
Dick (pompously): Art isn't
meaningless.
Maury: 1t is in itself 1t isn't
in that II tries to make life less So.
Anthony: In other words. Dick,
you're playing before a grand stand
peopled with ghosts.
Maury: Give a good show any
how.
Anthony Ito Maury): On the
contrary. I'd feel that it being a
meaningless world. why write?
The very attempt to give II pur-
pose is purposeless.
Dick: Well. even admitting all
that. be a decent pragmatist and
grant a poor man the instinct to
live. Would you want everyone to
accept that sophistic rot?
Anthony: Yeah. I suppose so.
Maury: No. sir, I believe that
everyone in America but a selected
thousand should be compelled to ac-
cent a very rigid system of morals
Roman Catholicism. for instance
I don't complain of conventional
morality. I complain rather of the
mediocre heretics who seize upon
the findings of sOphistication and
adopt the pose of a moral freedom