The Hypocrite

eather, with a fleur-de-lys stamped in the corner, and distribu

Union, who sat by the fire, "you must reme

o like moonlight in the quad, and read leading articles? It is very amusing. I wear a great mass of hair, and look at them with far-away eyes instinct with intellectual pain; and sometimes when we get very solemn, the tears rise

fuge, where there is no necessity to pose, and where you can freely behave like the scoundrel you

drunk I do it much better. One can look more spirituel, and play the game better all round. Unfortunately the entrances and exits require management. When one is leaning back in

there's a sway,' I sup

achine-made epigram. I will have a short drink-quite short. Yes, please-Scotch--" He splashed s

o speak third at the Wadham d

d to the President of the Union, who was living out of college. They were rooms arranged with an eye to effect; the owner posed

full of paper-backed novels of Heller and Maupassant, with a few portly histo

take them. He had scattered notes from literary people about the mantelpiece. The table was covered with proof-slips, magazines, and empty glass

, drew up their chairs to the fire, lighting fresh cigarettes. They had been drinking all day, and were by this time in

e men of mark in

being a high churchman who made a scientific study of advertising his own personality in the weekly press as an earnest ascetic, but who in r

disregard for morals, pretending so vigorously that Irish whiskey was entirely necessary to salvation th

a single eyeglass, and on alternate days wore

able cleverness, and despite his life he had done excellently well in the Schools and Union. In

erest set. He was tall, with a white, clean-shaven face, and an oracular way of holding forth which had earned him the

the aisle of St. Barnabas carrying a richly-illuminated mass-book. "Sunday," he wo

ery clever blackguar

nt; "he looks so young and

pure ad

ything to do with him, and for the last term or two he has been living on his wi

elieve the man. I suppose

The Book Review and in The Pilgrim. I imagine t

earth do

fe he is leading, goes to Father Gray to confession

l little snigger and pour

ighted by the dull glow of the dying fire. The air was heavy with cigar

g, so he raised himself in his chair, and began to driv

tiness, but both felt it a relief from the state of nervou

rld grin, to paraphrase the immortal bard,

had a piano began to play the Venusb

ting through the winter sky, attended by a little drift of fluffy amber and sulphur-coloured cloud

was thrown into sharp re

nge music tinkled on, like the overture to some strange experience, s

rves were all wrong, and he was su

l more directly into the room. On the wall opposite the window was a picture of the

stared fix

e man above shut the piano with a

he had been asleep. Then he yawned, and taking h

fought depression by firing off epigrams to a crowd of men

fter the hour had struck, Yardly Gobion left the co

usual, made

y, and now lit his cigarette with a pleasing sense of strength and nerve running through him. The sunshine of applause seemed to warm his impressionable brain, to

ns, and he could see that every one of the good-natured m

ies told. The big football-playing, warm-hearted undergraduates admired him for his soft felt

stinctive personality, and indeed these little poses would have d

"doctrinaire with a touch of Corney Grain grafted on to a polemic attitude," and already in the

electric light at Exeter), and arranged them in a row on the table. Then he turned and looked at himself in the glass. His hand shook till he had had some brandy, and he was several minutes moving re

ght, their drunken shouts seeming to be mellowed and made musical by the ancient buildings. At last, with a quick

gton Vi

day

an in Oxford; that you have not passed a single examination, and that you consistently fritter away

s and work at the University, which, on inves

to get any money from you, and that you ignore their communications. You have had splendid opportunities, a good name, with

for you, and you must make y

t help you

r un

the

a rat. Damn this collar-it's tight...." He tore it off, smashing the head of the stud, which rolled under the fender with a sharp metallic click. After a time he sat down again. The feeling of ruin was already passing a

er, a small envelope add

stc

on Wo

ur letter on Saturday. I have been thinking of you a good deal t

excuse for you, as you must meet heaps of pretty girls in Oxfo

bye, d

very

oo

xcuse s

yes filling with tears, while the light pla

. He thought of the evening walks in the sweet summer meadows, when the "mellow lin lan lone of evening bells" ringing

The hot kisses, the suppers and patchouli-scented rooms, the slang and high tinkling laughter. H

wasted hours-"will the dawn never come?" He came opposite the looking-glass, and was struck with the beauty of his own face, sad and pure. He gazed intently for a minute or two, then his features relaxed, and he breathed

o more letters to b

Stran

mn-leaded type; and shall be glad to have the copy by Friday at the latest. Are you going to be in town at all soon? If so I shall possib

later than Frida

e, yours v

es H

likes work that keeps cleverly on the border, and I imagine that I have shown him how to be realistic without being inde

d some mo

was simply a bre

the morrow, finally deciding to borrow all the

, so he turned out the light and went into his bedroom. Just as he was closing the door of communication, he noticed by t

shut, and the