Classic Audiobook Collection - Gargoyles by Ben Hecht ~ Full Audiobook [drama]

Starting point is 00:00:00 gargoyles by ben hecht chapter i the calendars said nineteen hundred it was growing warm george cornelius bazine emerged from madamey's house of ill fame at five o'clock on a sabbath may morning he was twenty-five years old neatly dressed a bit unshaven and whistling valiantly won't you come home bill bailey won't you come home bill bailey won't you you come home? Considering the highest state which was to be his, as the estimable Senator Bazin, the introduction savers of malice. But it must be remembered, this was twenty-two years ago, and, moreover, in a day before the forces of decency had triumphed. The soul of man was still unregenerate. Prostitutes, saloons, hell-holes still flourished unchallenged in the city's heart, and Bazine, even at twenty-five, was not one of those aggravating anomalies who pride themselves upon being ahead of their time, or behind their time.

Starting point is 00:01:12 Bazine was of his time. And on this day, which witnessed him whistling on the doorstep of Madame Minnie's, the devil was still a gentleman, albeit a gentleman in bad standing. But being a gentleman, he was tolerated. tradition in a manner still clothed him in the guise of a rabelaisian clown high-born but fallen he walked abroad in his true character flaunting his red tights his cloven hoof his spiked tail and his mysterious horns a mid-victorian devil innocent of further disguise his face still undisfigured by the kaiser's moustachio or the bolshevist's whiskers A naive, unctuous, loud of a devil with straightforward tempter's proclivities. An antagonist, not for Dr. Wilson's and Monsieur Clemenceau's,

Starting point is 00:02:10 and the societies for the spread of true Americanization, but an unpolitical, highly orthodox, leering, pitchfork brandishing vis-a-vis, for simple men of God. In short, the devil was still a devil and not a complex. it was growing warm and the calendars said a new century a new century and the great men of the day pointed with stern pregnant fingers at the calendars and proclaimed a new century a new century beautiful phrase the soul of man in its struggle toward god knows what paused elatedly to contemplate the new milestone elated as all youth is a elated for no other reason than that there is a tomorrow a tomorrow of unknown and multiple milestones elated with the knowledge of progress that sage and flattering word by which the soul of man explains the baffling phenomenon of its survival the great men of the day stood staring through half-closed eyes at the calendars to anticipate by a single day but the future

Starting point is 00:03:29 no less than the past remains a current mystery, and the great men, the prophets, confined themselves with stentorian caution to the prophecy. A new century has dawned. Bazine, whistling and waiting for his companion to emerge on Madame Minnie's doorstep, regarded the scene about him with the hardened moral indifference of youth. It was growing warm. the may sun was striding an incongruous provincial virgin through a litter of blousey streets under its mocking light the rows of body houses and saloons suffered an architectural collapse walls windows roofs and chimneys leered tiredly at each other the district seemed indeed an illustration for a parable of vice and virtue drawn by the venomously partial

Starting point is 00:04:28 pen of some unusually half-witted cleric dirty-faced brothels tousled cafe signs bleary sidewalks toothless storefronts all cowering before the rebuke of god's son a few mysterious solitaries lent a vague life to the scene the figure of a drunk unchastened zigzagging humorously down the pavement like some nocturnal clown probably after a vanished bacchanal, a hastily dressed prostitute carrying her night's earnings as an offering to early devotion. A few unseasoned revelers overcome with a nostalgia for clean bathrooms and Sunday morning waffles at the family board, sleepily fleeing the scenes of their carouse. All this formed no part of the preoccupations of the whistling one. one. He was waiting for his companion, and for the 15th time, the tune of Bill Bailey came softly from his lips. The companion appeared, a crestfallen young man of 23, Hugh Keegan by

Starting point is 00:05:41 name. An idiotic wistfulness marked the blonde vacuity of his face. They said nothing and walked to the streetcar track. Here they must wait. There was no car in sight. Bazine employed the weight, jumping out from the curbing and peering with a great show of interest down the deserted tracks. The night's dissipation had left him perversely elate. His vanity demanded that he confound the scenes of his recent moral collapse by exhibitions of undiminished vigor of body and gaiety of mind.

Starting point is 00:06:21 so he capered back and forth between the curb and the deserted tracks ostentatiously unbuttoning his coat to the chill of the dawn and addressing brisk cheerful sallies to his penitent friend it was this way with bazin he had spent the night in sin now he must act as if he had not spent the night in sin it was a matter of deceiving his conscience and bazin's conscience did not live in bazin. It was, to the contrary, a mysterious external force, something quite outside him. He eyed the virtuous hallelujahs of the sunrise with a somewhat overemphasized aplomb. Dimly he felt that a god was articulating in dawns and sunbeams. As long as he had continued his whistling, these facts had remained concealed. but now he had grown tired of bill bailey and at once god peering out of his beautiful rosy heaven was saying shame on you everything seemed to be waiting to repeat this banal reproof this was the conscience of george basseen a reproof that came from without he felt an inclination to defiance before this reproof he was young and given to evil

Starting point is 00:07:51 He was only natural, considering the time in which he lived and the biological impulses of youth. But to do evil was one thing. To defend it, after it was done, was another. Thus, Bazine, having sinned lustily through the night, avoided the more unspeakable sin of defending his action. The reproof arrived. He faced it with candor and intelligence. prepared to admit that he had done wrong. He did not want God mumbling around inside him,

Starting point is 00:08:28 as was the case with his friend Keegan. God mumbled around inside of Keegan and made him feel like the devil. But Bazine, there was no occasion for God to argue his point. He, Bazine, surrendered gracefully and forthwith. That was the way to handle situations of the soul. To Bazine, situations of the soul were a species of external discomforts he identified as God. They were the regulations and taboos of a civilization to which he was prepared at all times to submit.

Starting point is 00:09:08 Providing such submission did not compromise him. One got rid of taboos by looking them squarely in the eye and simulating respect or remorse. taboos were good manners one had to be polite to good manners bazin laughed not defiantly he had already made his apologies to the dawn the dawn was god's good manners it entered the world as precisely and as perfectly as the saintly wife of a great financier might enter her grandmother's drawing-room waiting beside the car-track bazin was already a reformed and forgiven man the sun was like a huge salvation army marching through the highways of evil beating great drums and singing are you washed are you washed in the blood of the lamb he was glad of it he was glad to be once more a part of a virtuous world a citizen of an ideal republic given to the great causes of progress this adjustment completed memories of the night came to him as they waited for the car these memories failed naturally to conflict with his character as a citizen of virtue for they were memories which he was prepared at any moment to repudiate and denounce thus prepared he could of course enjoy them the memories brought an elation the elation which usually filled which usually filled

Starting point is 00:10:50 the healthy male of 25, upon discovering or rediscovering, that the devil is as alluring as he is painted, and that the wages of sin are neither death nor disillusion. He had enjoyed himself. Sin was wrong. But if one knew it was wrong, one could go ahead and enjoy it. The great thing was to know it was wrong, to admit it frankly and share in the general indignation of it, and not to go around like a vicious-minded freak defending it, like some people he knew were in the habit of doing. Thus, on this May morning, Bazine was able to grasp the enormity

Starting point is 00:11:34 of his offense, and to apologize wholeheartedly for its commission, and simultaneously, to enjoy the memory of it. He had come away from Madame Minis, with an egoistic impression of his prowess, and with the self-satisfaction which comes of the knowledge of having cheated the devil out of his due by his careful method. He remembered with a warmth in his throat, as if he were recalling something beautiful, how the creature had looked at the first moment she stood before him. He had spent the earlier part of the night getting creditably drunk, lured into the brothel by a woman with a hard childish face, he had devoted himself for several hours to the despicable business of sin.

Starting point is 00:12:24 The sordid make-believe of passion had pleased him vastly. He had managed, in fact, to achieve an observation on life. As the night waned, he had grown philosophical and thought how with good women one began with personal talk with an exchange of confidences. One began with emotions, with gentle lacerations, wistfulness, sadness, and one progressed from these toward the intimacy of physical contact. But with bad women, one began with the intimacy of physical contact. Only the abrupt, matter-of-fact tone of the thing robbed the contact.

Starting point is 00:13:08 of all intimacy, and one progressed from this contact toward a wistfulness, a gentle shyness, and finally in exchange of confidences and personal talk. This last contained in it the thrill of intimacy. A good woman surrendered her body and inspired thereby a sense of possession. A bad woman surrendered the secret of her birthplace and of her real name. And of her real name, and inspired a similar sense. There was also obvious the fact that the same sense of dramatic coquetry, idealism, modesty, or whatever it was, that induced the good woman to withhold her body, induced the bad woman to withhold her confidence.

Starting point is 00:13:58 Under the influence of this knowledge, Bazin had pursued the usual tactics of the predatory male, and, as a Philip to the unimaginative excitements of the night, obtained from his accomplice in sin the story of her life. The mystery of a bad woman is that she was once virtuous, he thought as he fell asleep. Just as the mystery of a virtuous woman is that she could be bad. An hour later he awoke, and with a thrill of quixotic honesty, placed five dollars in the moist hand of the sleepin'horry, gathering his friend Keegan out of an adjoining room, and emerged once more into the world with a clear head,

Starting point is 00:14:47 a body full of elated memories, and a laudable conviction that he had done wrong, but that what happened yesterday was not a part of today, and that a man can grant himself absolution from sin as easily as he can lay aside virtue. as for kegan he stared with mild eyes at the dawn at the beggarly alleys and the negro porter dreamily sweeping cigar-stubs out of the lopsided doorway he listened patiently to his friend's enthusiasms to kegan there was something inexplicable about bazin's morning-after pose hegan had not yet found a place for god platitudes were not a background against which he might posture to his convenience.

Starting point is 00:15:41 Instead, they were terrible intimates. They operated his thought for him. After committing a sin, one should be repentant. The commission of sin was, of course, an outrage, but somehow the platitudes did not quite reach into the bedroom of evil. They remained hovering outside the door, marking time, as it were, and whispering through the keyhole, Just wait, just wait.

Starting point is 00:16:11 And as soon as he had emerged from the room, in fact, even before that, they had taken possession of him again. They demanded now repentance, thorough repentance, which included thorough repudiation of all joyous memories, all pleasurable moments.

Starting point is 00:16:31 And Keegan, surrendering himself as a matter of necessity, to their demands presented the exterior of a sorrowing victim to the dawn he offered a nod or a surprised stare as punctuation for his friend's discourse chewing the while on an unsuccessfully lighted cigar which tasted sour there was something different about her from the usual girl of that kind bazin was explaining wouldn't talk for a while but finally got confidential and began to cry a bit this was a lie reflecting credit however on the youth's dramatic sense and vanity the knowledge that the creature under discussion had been actually no different from the six other ladies of her profession with whom he had experienced moral collapses since leaving the university in no way interfered with his opinion of the recent episode it was his opinion that things he touched were somehow different from things other young men dallied with that events which befell him were of a certain mysterious fibre lacking in the events which befell others thus he was reduced to the necessity of continual lying in a certain mysterious fibre lacking in the events which befell others thus he was reduced to the necessity of continual lying in order to vindicate this conviction, more powerful than reality.

Starting point is 00:18:00 Lying to himself as much as to anyone else. By his lies, Bazine accomplished the dual purpose of adjusting inferior incidents to the superiority of his nature and of impressing the superiority upon his friends. A way of rewriting life so as to fit himself with the heroic part, as yet denied him. in the manuscript and which he sincerely felt was his due. Yes, she cried a bit. They usually do, you know. Keegan was innocent of this phenomenon, but nodded.

Starting point is 00:18:40 He felt mysteriously saddened by the fact that they never wept for him. Life denied him many things. The creature he had spent the night with had treated him somewhat brutally. She had laughed several times. He sought, however, to make up for the indifference with which he felt himself treated by heightening his contempt for her as a sinner. This necessitated an increase of his contempt for himself as having been a partner in evil. But that was a spiritual gesture made bearable by the wave of remorse it aroused, and by the knowledge that remorse was a laudable emotion.

Starting point is 00:19:23 Nevertheless, despite the remorse and the rehabilitation it offered his vanity, he continued to feel, life denied him many things. Bazine continued, You could take a girl like that and make something of her. Give her a month. By which he meant, give George Cornelius Bazine a month and see the miracle he would work. Keegan sighed.

Starting point is 00:19:53 he admired george and his admiration of others always depressed him he was intelligent enough to know that he admired things he lacked and yet he assured himself he would despise the things in himself that he admired in others therefore it was very probable that he despised them in others or would at some later day unless he managed to conceal the fact or lose track of it in the confusion of platitudes which served him for a brain he looked enviously at his friend before whom hardened trolleps dissolved in tears she's only been in the game a little while you know hugh a convent girl too. She told me her story. How she got started, you know. A love affair with a Spaniard, a highly connected fellow. Bazine prattled on, improvising a melodrama of virtue, led astray, editing the vaguely worded generalities of the creature he had left asleep. Eventually, he tired of the game, and announced abruptly, "'Not a car in sight! What do you? What do you? you say we walk, Hugh? The idea of walking four miles home after a wild night engaged his vanity.

Starting point is 00:21:20 Things by which he proved the dubious superiority of his body pleased him. I think I'll run along, said Keegan. Nothing doing, Huey. You come with me. We'll have breakfast at my house. Keegan frowned. There were two sisters and a mother in Bazine's home. I can't. Why not? Oh, because. Bazine persisted, gently malicious.

Starting point is 00:21:56 It amused him to inconvenience his friend's scruples. It also gave him a feeling of moral supremacy. Kegan was ashamed to go to his home with him. He pitied him for this, and yet enjoyed him. the fact. It was because Keegan didn't feel sure of himself, of his being a man of virtue. And he, Bazine, did. There was no question about it in his mind. Ashamed, he asked with a smile. No, Keegan grunted.

Starting point is 00:22:34 Well, you haven't done anything worse than me, by which he meant, we do things differently. and I am above things that knock you out." Keegan stared at his friend furtively. There were things inexplicable in George Bazine. He must admire them. There was nothing inexplicable in himself. He hesitated about going, however. A combination of platitudes was involved.

Starting point is 00:23:05 He felt the necessity of repentance. And then he felt the necessity of hideous. his shame. And finally, platitude cautioned him indignantly against affronting three good women, a mother and two daughters, with the presence of one lately come from the flesh-pots of Satan. This was a superior platitude because it came also under the index of good manners. But Bazine, taking him by the elbow, swept him along, platitudes and all. an inexplicable bazin whom he admired, envied, despised, and who is his best friend and his model. They walked together, Bazine briskly, to hide the sudden heaviness of his legs,

Starting point is 00:23:56 Keegan, yielding to the less-pronounced physical drain he had undergone, and falling into a weary protesting gate. End of Chapter 1. Recording by Roger Maline Chapter 2 of Gargoyles This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline Gargoyles by Ben Hecht Chapter 2

Starting point is 00:24:30 The death of Howard Bazine had precipitated a creditable outburst of grief on the part of his widow and two daughters. The event had brought his son George home from college. They had shared a bed for 26. years, Bazine Pear and Bazine Mare, achieving an utter disregard of each other, which both took pride in identifying as domestic happiness. In their youth, love had brought them together while comparative strangers, and after 26 years, death had parted them still strangers. But now, complete and total strangers, Siamese twins who had never been introduced to each other.

Starting point is 00:25:17 Each had grown old by the side of the other, subscribing to the same thoughts, worries, ambitions. It was as if a thin shell had grown around each of them. This shell was their home, their mutual interest in bank balances, diversions, and tomorrows. It was the product of their practical energies, their standing in the eyes of their friends, their success and their solidity as a social unit. it was their pride in new rugs in invitations to functions in their children there were two shells one was bazin pear one was bazin mare for twenty-six years these two shells cohabited together but inside each of them there had been a world of things that had never connected and that remained forever part of a mutually preserved secret little day-dreams absurdly the swaggering pensive impractical rigmarole of thought life to which the world of reality the shell world had remained almost to the last no more than a vaguely sensed exterior

Starting point is 00:26:31 each of them had lived almost continually apart from this shell they had given but a fraction of their energies toward its creation it had required only a little part of themselves to become too placidly successful conventionally happy people with the home and family. The rest of themselves they had allowed to evaporate. A pleasing process, evaporation, dreams, ambitions, longings, all these had evaporated slowly and secretively during the 26 years, vanished into thin air, and each had been preoccupied with this process of evaporation. It had been their real life, the life which diverted them and which they mutually concealed from each other as they sat together reading of evenings, or rode in cars, or waited in offices, or lay in bed. Here in this real life were success and beauty and marvelous activities. Here Bazine Pear planned Herculian Enterprise

Starting point is 00:27:39 and triumphed with magnificent gestures, became a leader of finance, of armies, became a lover of queens and odalists. Caressing from day-to-day phantasms which had no existence, it was in them that he chiefly existed. He confined himself not only to illusions of grandeur. There were also little things, charming minor victories, which delighted his ego,

Starting point is 00:28:09 as much as the greater ones. He was able to trick out the minor victories with the illusion of reality. They were things that might happen, that one could dream about almost as actually happening. Things that he fancied people might be saying about him, admissions that he fancied people might make to him, dreams that he fancied he inspired in women who passed him and whom he never saw again. This illusory existence preoccupying Bazine had fitted him ideally for the companionship of orderly, placid-minded folk, preoccupied like himself with similar processes of evaporation. These folks were his friends, with whom he went to the theater, played cards, transacted business,

Starting point is 00:29:00 discussed issues. They were known as normal, practical persons. The vows. The very very well, vast illusory worlds in which they lived during the greater part of their hours, in no way encroached upon the realities of their day. They were proud of having a grip on themselves, by which they meant of being able to allow their energies to evaporate secretively, instead of feeling inspired to harness them to realities, and run the risk of being hoisted body and soul out of their shells, into a maelstrom of uncertainties and hullabaloo's, in order to rationalize the disparity between their actual estates and the fantastic estates of their illusory lives they devoted a part of their energies to the practical business of glorifying their shells they subscribed with indignation sometimes with fanaticism to all social spiritual and political ideas which had for their objective the glorification of their shells

Starting point is 00:30:06 they became champions of systems of thought and conduct which excused on one hand and deified on the other their devitalized modes of existence in fact as they grew older they developed a curious egoism which took the form of a pride in their suppressions they thought of themselves as men who had achieved a superior sanity this sanity lay in being able to recognize the real from the unreal the real was their shell the unreal consisted of the fanities produced by the process of evaporation this sanity too enabled them to regard their imaginings and dreamings with an amused condescension and to mature into unruffled effigies practical hard-headed business men the evaporation however influenced them in one vital respect it effected what they called their taste in the arts they desired things they read or listened to in the theatre to be authentic interpretations not of the realities about them but of the illusions in which they secretly exhausted themselves they desired the heroes and heroines of literature and drama to be like the creatures and excitements of the soap-bubble worlds bursting conveniently about their hard heads and so in their reading and theatre going they enjoyed only those things which afforded a few hours of vicarious reality to the grotesqueries to the fairy-tale expansions of their departing dreams

Starting point is 00:31:51 during the last years of his life bazin had experienced the fullest rewards of a virtuous practical life at fifty he had become empty the rigmarole of day-dreams grew vaguer and finally ceased he had become bored with his grandiose and delusory selves don juan napoleon cretus no longer wore the features of bazin there was no longer wore the features of bazin there was no longer or any thrill in idly decorating his tomorrows with kaleidoscopic make-believes. There was no great tragedy in this. He was bored with his imagination because he had run through the repertoire of his fancies too often, and so, slowly, his days grew more and more void of unrealities. Slowly, also, he turned to the tangible things around him. He contemplated proudly the details of his shell. It was a comforting shell. It fitted him snugly. It consisted of his friends, his home, his children, his borrowed ideas, his wife. No outward change was to be

Starting point is 00:33:07 noticed in Bazine Pear when this happened. There was nothing to say that the process of evaporation had ended and that there was left an animate husk called Howard Bazine. A husk that that did not mourn at the knowledge of its emptiness but that accepted instead with piety and gratitude the presence of other husks pleased and warm to move among their empty companionships it was at this time that bazin proudly felt himself a worth while member of society and grew to smile with tolerant disdain upon all persons who busied themselves with the illusions he had overcome by the simple process of denying them life. He called them fools, scoundrels, lunatics, and dreamers, and he agreed with his friends that they were creatures engaged in filling the world with discomfort and error. His dislike for them did not make him unhappy, for he was content in the flattering knowledge that most people, everybody he knew and whose opinion he valued,

Starting point is 00:34:17 were like himself. His thoughts were nearly everybody's thoughts, and his life was like everybody's life. There was a sense of strength, even satisfaction in this. He relapsed gracefully into a quiet emptiness, out of which he was able to derive final embalming fluid for his vanity by pitying the distractions and unrest of others. Then he died. The sight of her husband, lying under the glass of the coffin, had reminded Mrs. Bazine of the curious fact

Starting point is 00:34:54 that in their youth love had brought them together. A memory borrowed its way from under the debris of 26 years, and comforted her. A memory of wild nights, flushed cheeks, shining eyes, hope and careless words. And the dim yesterday, the long-feworthy. forgotten yesterday that lay in the coffin with the ponchy figure of the bald-headed silk merchant became suddenly real again. When she was alone that night, Mrs. Bazine wept miserably for a love that had died twenty-five years ago, and lain buried and unmorned under the debris of these years. A tardy exposition of grief, sincere but enfeebled in its own age.

Starting point is 00:35:46 It spent itself in a few hours. The tears for the memory of vanished youth and vanished love, of which the body waiting in the coffin had become for a space of grotesque symbol, were followed by the inarticulate sense of an anticlimax. Howard Bazin's dying was somehow not a tragedy to the woman who had lived with him for 26 years. When she had wept at first, the idea of death came like a panic to her heart. Things had died. Days, nights, hopes had died. But she had been unaware of them dying. The figure of her husband leaving for his day's work, returning from his

Starting point is 00:36:32 day's work, sitting at the head of the table, retiring to bed with her, this had been a mask behind which the dying of things remained concealed. Now that he had closed his eyes, and vanished, it was as if a mask had been removed. One could see all at once all the things that had died. And she saw not only Howard lying dead, but most of herself. In her mind she had no memory of the illusory selves she had lived, like her husband, alone. These illusory selves whose successes and romances she had caressed in secret had of late abandoned her. Like her husband, she had turned to the shells they had created about themselves as the comforting reward of her life's negation. Now it struck her that these shells were full of dead things.

Starting point is 00:37:31 While he lived, they had seemed alive. The fact that the man with whom she had survived 26 years continued to talk and to move had given her the vague feeling that these years were also still alive. alive, still existent somewhere. Now the man was dead, and the years were dead with him. They had been dead all the while, but they had not lain in a coffin for one to look at like this. Dead years. And she, a survivor.

Starting point is 00:38:07 Her sense of contact with the past deserted her. She was alone. Everything that had been was no more, and it seems. during her grief as if it had never existed. She lay and wept, feeling that something had been terribly wasted. Once there had been youth. Now there was age. She had already lived, but how, where? Look, she was already old, but how had it happened? She who could remember so many things about youth, her pretty face, her careless hopes, bright, happy excitements, and most of all, the feeling that things lay ahead, that a store of mysterious things waited

Starting point is 00:38:55 for her, she who could remember it so plainly was an old woman. It had seemed natural before he died, but now it seemed unnatural. She would die soon too. Her youth, something she thought of his youth, arose and stretched out far-away arms to her. It came to her in the night and stood smiling at her like a ghost of herself. Yes, she was already dead, and she could lie in bed weeping for her husband and staring with tired eyes at memories. Thoughts did not disturb her. Her emotions, grown too involved for the shallows of her mind, gave her her the consciousness merely of a panic. But the panic left. It receded slowly, and the death of her husband stirred in her during the first weeks of mourning a gentle affection for the man.

Starting point is 00:39:57 She closeted herself with the memories that had terrified her, sensual memories of an impetuous lover, an idealization of a long-forgotten, Howard. And her sorrow became like a vague honeymoon shared with slowly dissolving erotic shadows. This too went. As it went away, the widow became curiously younger in her features, her black clothes, her mannerisms. She grew to find the loneliness of her bed desirable. She would snuggle kitnishly between the empty sheets, an unintelligible sense of immorality, as if it were immoral to sleep alone, lending a luxury to her weariness yes it was somehow nicer to sleep alone to have the bedroom all to herself in her mind things that were different from the routine of her life and that belonged to the secret imaginings that had once filled her days were immoral and this was different being alone

Starting point is 00:41:06 so her living on without her husband became an odd sort of infidelity pleasant diverting the year and a half passed bringing a rejuvenation to her body her youth and its decline were buried in a coffin now at fifty-two she was living again and creating out of the remains of her figure coiffure and complexion a new youth at least a new exterior the dreams of her earlier days returned to her and she no longer found it necessary to deny them all reality it had been necessary before in order to keep herself fitted into the shell and as a result her dreams denied any possibility of realization had become like his more and more fantastic more and more warmly improbable now there was no need for a shell there was no need to preserve an easily recognizable and never-failing characterization she had done that before so as to avoid confusing her husband and herself and she had been rewarded by a similar ruse employed by him now that he was gone she found herself changing she found herself approaching the romantic conception of herself and since she was able to carry into reality her rejuvenated fancies to devote herself to looking stunning to making a somewhat exotic impression upon people to arousing interest her imaginings did not expand as before into distorted and improbable pictures she began to busy herself to actively give them outlet to have time or surplus energies for the

Starting point is 00:43:04 the evolution of fancies beyond her. She had no plans for the future, and she was not interested in any. An amazing fact had come into her life, the present. She abandoned herself to it. She had harnessed what was left of the energies, allowed so long to evaporate,

Starting point is 00:43:25 and the process of evaporation was at an end. She would become, if there was time, a keenly alive, egoistic woman, gorging herself upon the desserts remaining at the banquet board, before which she had sat for 26 years, with closed eyes and listless hands. She felt these things only dimly. There was a freedom to life, like a new taste in her senses. Of this she was confusedly aware. And her sorrow for her dead husband became a point.

Starting point is 00:44:03 pleasant thing, a thing inseparable from the gratitude she unknowingly felt for the new existence his death had given her. She referred to him with a pensively magnanimous air, inventing perfections in his character and endowing his departed intelligence, with a wisdom far beyond her own. This enabled her to utilize his memory in an odd way. When she argued with her friends or children, when she was doubtful concerning the extravagance or selfishness of her actions, or the newly born radicalism of her views, she would quote mercilessly from her dead husband. The fact that he was dead lent a sanctity to whatever views he may have held. Not in her own eyes, but, as she shrewdly sensed, in the eyes of others.

Starting point is 00:44:58 and she grew to play unscrupulously upon this thing she perceived in her children and friends that they respected the words and opinions of a dead man infinitely more than those of one alive thus she was able to indulge herself in ways which would have astounded and perhaps horrified the departed bazine and to bring her immediate circle to accept these ways as conventionally desirable by making her dead husband their spiritual sponsor. Her friends shafed under this ruse, but felt themselves powerless to combat it. They were men and women who lived on the opinions of the dead, who subscribed fanatically to all ideas sanctified by the length of their interment. Themselves, they practiced the ruse of editing the wisdoms of the past,

Starting point is 00:45:55 as well as prophecies of the future into vindications of the present. They felt indignant but powerless before the treachery of Mrs. Bazine, who raided the mausoleum for private articles of faith. Mrs. Bazine was aware at first of lying, but this feeling gave way to a conviction that if her husband had not thought and said the things she attributed to him while he was alive, he would have done so had he continued to live. Because, she said to herself,

Starting point is 00:46:30 we were always alike and thought and said the same things, always. Her son George was proud of his mother, but inclined to be dubious about the change that had come over her. He was irritated particularly one evening to hear his mother advocate equal suffrage rights for women to a group of surprised friends gathered at their home. I think such ideas foolish and dangerous, George explained politely. Why, his mother inquired?

Starting point is 00:47:05 Bazine shook his head. He had given the subject no thought, but a militant defense of the status quo inspired him always with a comfortable feeling of rectitude. I see no reason, pursued Missing. says Bazine, why women shouldn't vote as well as men? I remember your father was very much interested in the issue of women's suffrage. He said the day would come when women voted shoulder to shoulder with men and that the country would be improved by it. Bazine stared at his mother. He had grown to realize

Starting point is 00:47:43 that she had discovered the trick of lending weight and irrefutable wisdoms to her own notions by surrounding them with the sanctity of death, for it was almost impossible to fly in the face of a quotation from his father. The fact that the man was dead seemed to make contradiction of any ideas or prophecies attributed to him a sacrilege. There was also the fact becoming daily more obvious that his mother was turning into an unscrupulous administrator of the dead man's opinions. I never heard father say anything of the kind, he exclaimed suddenly.

Starting point is 00:48:25 And then, feeling that a loss of temper was the only way in which he could cover the affront he had offended his mother, he added with indignation, You keep backing up your arguments by dragging Dad's corpse into them all the time. Mrs. Bazine looked at him in amazement, and he reddened. He apologized quickly. Mrs. Bazine, shocked by her son's unexpected penetration, bit her lip and became silent. She let the argument pass, not without observing that her friend's present appeared for a moment to rally around her son's expose, as if he had given words to their own attitude. She decided, when she was alone again, to be more careful.

Starting point is 00:49:14 She loved her son and felt a dread of sacrificing. his respect. There was a dread also of sacrificing the respect of these others who had looked at her for a moment with an accusing understanding. There had been present Mrs. Gilchrist, an old creature of oracular senilities whom she had grown secretly to detest. But the detestation she felt was accompanied by a vivid desire to keep in with the woman. Mrs. Gilchrist was a person of position, decided position. Her son, Aubrey, was a novelist. This alone endowed the Gilchrist tribe with an aura of culture. They lived in Evanston and were active, mother and son, in the social life of the town. Mrs. Bazine was unable as yet to determine the reasons that made her

Starting point is 00:50:11 dislike her. In her secret mind, she called Mrs. Gilchrist a domic. meneering old fool. But she stopped with that. There was the Gilchrist social position. Society had always interested, Mrs. Bazine, but since her widowhood, this interest had become active. She had read the society columns of the newspapers regularly, and through the 26 years of her married life, retained the singular idea that the people whose names appeared in these columns belonged to a close knit organization similar to the masons only of course infinitely superior the appearance of a new name among the list of socially known always stirred an indignation in her she was not a bounder herself the closely knit organization whose members poured tea gave bazaars occupied boxes at the theater had been in her mind a fixed and invulnerable institution, neither to be taken by storm nor won by strategy.

Starting point is 00:51:23 Thus, she had excused her lack of social ambition and success by investing society with an almost magical aloofness, a sort of superhuman coterie of tea-pourers and benefit-givers that kept itself intact and beyond intrusion by the exercise of incredible diligence. among her daydreams during these years had been those of magnificent social successes of long newspaper articles describing with awe her splendor and prestige but in reality she would as soon have thought of breaking into society as of attacking twelve policemen with a carving-knife she resented therefore the appearance of new names in the society columns bounders she would murmur to herself half expecting that the organization into which they had bounded would issue some outraged and withering excommunication upon the new teaporer but the name would appear again and again and after such innumerable appearances mrs bazin would automatically accept its presence within the organization and rally quixotically to its defense against the other bound struggling to invade the sanctity it had achieved and although during this period of her life mrs bazin had felt none of the low instincts which inspired the bounders to bound

Starting point is 00:52:57 she had endeavored to the best of her abilities to mimic as much as a humble outsider could the spiritual elegancies which distinguished the organization she succeeded in creating a formal atmosphere about her home a dignity about her home a dignity about her her table of which she was modestly proud. She had felt in secret that any member of the organization entering her house, an event of which she dreamed as a waveringly sophisticated child might dream of a fairy's visit, would have experienced no dismay. Now this attitude which had characterized her married life was changing. Society was no longer an impregnable organization. Mrs. Bazine was, in fact, engaged determinedly upon its conquest, and her attitude toward the detestable Mrs. Gilchrist was colored by that fact. An acquaintanceship with the Gilchrist's had been achieved through maneuverings of her daughters as workers in charity

Starting point is 00:54:03 bazaars managed by the woman. Until the death of her husband, Mrs. Bazine had ignored her two daughters. A proprietary feeling in them which exhausted itself in dictating the surface details of their lives had been the extent of her interest. She had presumed during their childhood and adolescence that they were bazines and nothing else. This had guided her parenthood. Being bazines, they must conform to bazinism, which meant that they must be like their mother or their father, and she struggled carelessly to see that their youth did not assert itself in ways inimical to her own characterization. Doris, the younger, was inclined to be beautiful. Fanny, however, had always seemed to her a more substantial person. But her widowhood had brought a belated curiosity

Starting point is 00:55:03 concerning these young women. She wondered at times what their dreams were. She had understood that they were strangers, and this began to interest her. She was proud of them, and although undemonstrative, would sometimes put her arms around both of them as they walked to a neighbor's after dinner. They did not inspire the pride in her, however, that her son did. George had finished his law, and she felt as she listened to him talk or watched his face at the table that he was somebody. There was an assurance and health about him. His keen-featured face, the straight black hair parted in the center, the movements of his lithe body, always quick and definite, and particularly his hands, these made her think of him

Starting point is 00:55:57 vaguely as an artist, somebody different. She knew in her heart that although he seemed to differ in his ideas from none of their friends, he was not like other young men. End of Chapter 2. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 3 of Gargoyles. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht.

Starting point is 00:56:42 Chapter 3. It was Sunday morning. Mrs. Bazine and her two daughters were sitting down to breakfast. Hugh Keegan followed Bazine, embarrassedly, into the dining room. The two young men had been renovating themselves for an hour in the bathroom. The meal started casually. Fanny Bazine studied their guest with what was meant to be a provoking carelessness. She was a facile virgin who wooed men persistently and slapped their faces for a misunderstanding her.

Starting point is 00:57:19 You've been quite a stranger, Mr. Keegan, she said. Her eyes smiled. Keegan felt wretched. He was conscious of being unclean. The fresh, virginal face of the girl smiling at him filled him with rage. He accepted a waffle from Mrs. Bazine with exaggerated formality. He was not enraged with himself. This was too difficult.

Starting point is 00:57:47 It was easier, simple. to be repentant. His repentance did not accuse him as a man who had sinned, but denounced the things which had caused him to sin and made him unclean. To himself he was essentially perfect. There were forces, however, which infringed upon his perfection, which soiled his fine qualities. Eating his waffle, he thought of the creature with whom he had spent the night, of the dismal bedroom, the frowsy-smelling hallway, the coarse talk and viciousness of the entire business. And he began to feel a rage against them. He would like to wipe such things out of the world. He managed to answer Miss Bazine politely.

Starting point is 00:58:35 I've been out of town a great deal, he said. George always said you were a gadfly, Fanny replied. Mrs. Bazine spoke. You look rather tired, George. She gazed pensively at her son. I don't like you to stay out all night like that. Bazine frowned. What did his mother mean by that?

Starting point is 00:59:03 Did she suppose he had spent the night in debauchery? It sounded that way from the way she looked and talked. Bazine grew angry. He did not want his mother to accuse him. you don't expect a man to remain cooped up night and day do you oh i don't mind you're going out but not the way you did last night she looked at him and then as if realizing for the first time the presence of her daughters changed her manner won't you have some syrup mr kegan kegan thanked her and lowered his eyes he had understood her accusation and accepted it as authentic. He had no mother of his own, and this inspired in him a curious sense of obedience toward all mothers he encountered. Mrs. Bazine's accusation embarrassed him. The embarrassment

Starting point is 01:00:02 increased his disgust for the memory of the night. He would like to wipe out such obscene and vulgar things. He would like to burn them up, forbid them. Someday he would. however, regarded his mother with a sense of outrage. The fact that her surmise of what he had done during the night was correct was a matter of minor importance. She didn't know what he had done, and therefore she had no right to guess. He answered her angrily. I did nothing at all last night that I wouldn't have my sisters do. His mother looked at him in surprise. Keegan blushed. you're always hinting around mother about things and you're absolutely wrong absolutely he added for a clincher his eyes remained unflinchingly on his mother

Starting point is 01:00:59 there was a convincing air of virtue about him and a doubt entered her mind perhaps she had suspected him unjustly but he had been away all night she had heard him come in around six where could he have been if not in such places yet she felt like apologizing bazin fiddled with his food he was acting out the part of injured innocence he was an unprotesting martyr to the low suspicions of his family the fact that he was guilty in no way interfered with the sincerity of his injured feelings his mother's accusation had sincerely hurt him even more than it would had he been actually innocent of wrongdoing he transferred whatever emotional guilt he had into indignation toward his accuser this was an old trick of his developed early in childhood a faculty of committing crimes without becoming a criminal more than kegan he was above self-accusation but unlike keegan the doing of a thing he knew to be wrong did not inspire him with the adroit remorse which took the form of hating the thing he had done instead of himself the crimes bazin committed usually no greater than normal violations of the ethical code to which he subscribed were things that had nothing to do with the real the real bazin was the bazin whom people knew the real bazin was a characterization he maintained for the benefit of others

Starting point is 01:02:47 the crimes were his own secret people didn't know them therefore they did not exist they remained locked away he did not say to himself hypocrite liar when he denied his mother's accusation he did not of course forget the things he had done during the night in fact even while he spoke there came to him a vivid memory of the prostitute in disproving the existence of this memory he was not disproving it for himself but for his mother his energy as usual was bent toward presenting a certain bazin for the admiration of another the bazin he sought to create for the admiration of his family was a moral and honest man when they seemed inclined to challenge this creation their suspicions angered him his attitude was that of a creator toward a hostile critic he frequently lost his temper and denounced their suspicions as unjust unfair and in his mind conveniently clouded by indignation they were. Not to himself as he was, but to the self he insisted upon pretending at the moment he was. This self was the bazine he was continually creating, a bazine that was not based upon deeds or truths or facts, but upon ideals. It was an ideal bazine, a nobly edited version of his character.

Starting point is 01:04:28 He believed in this ideal bazaal. bazine with a curious passion. This ideal bazine was a mixture of lies, shams, perversions of fact. But that was only when you considered him in relation to his creator, to its original. In his own mind, it was as absurd to consider this ideal bazine in relation to its creator as it would have been for a critic of aesthetics to consider the merits of Oscar Wilde's poetry in relation to the degeneracy of the man. Considered by himself, the ideal bazine

Starting point is 01:05:07 was a person of inspiring virtues. He was proud of the things he pretended to be, vicious in their defense, unswerving in his efforts to inspire others with an appreciation of these pretences. His anger toward his mother ebbed, as he noticed the doubt come into her manner. She had hesitated for a moment in face of

Starting point is 01:05:30 significant facts in accepting the ideal bazin, but her son's sincerity had convinced her, as it convinced most people who knew him. The sincerity with which he defended the idealization of himself was easily to be mistaken for a sincerity inspired by an innocence of actual wrongdoing. As soon as he felt certain he had re-established the ideal bazine in his mother's eyes, all thoughts of the facts passed from him the admiring opinion of others was what his nature desired and what his energies worked for once obtained this admiration was a mirror in which he saw himself only as he had argued others into seeing him he looked at his friend kegan with a smile kegan was still blushing kegan knew that he had lied and that the entire pose was a sham. But this only added another thrill to the fleeting self-satisfaction of having re-established himself in his family's eyes. He enjoyed the knowledge that Keegan was

Starting point is 01:06:45 able to see what a successful liar he was and how adroitly he managed to deceive people. This enjoyment was not a part of the emotion of the ideal, Bazine. It was purely human sensation felt by Bazine the Creator. There was a single flaw in his little triumph. This was, as usual, the attitude of his sister Doris. While the others were chattering, Doris kept silent. She had dark eyes and black hair. She was entirely unlike anybody in the Bazine family.

Starting point is 01:07:24 Fanny was blonde and vivacious, with a pout and full red lips. Before the death of her husband, Mrs. Bazine had summed up her daughter Doris as being aristocratic. At fifteen, Doris had been painfully shy. People smiled encouragingly at her because she seemed afraid of them. Four years later, people ceased to smile at her. They looked at her out of the corners of their eyes and wondered what she was thinking about. her silence was like a confusing argument had it not been for her beauty her silence could easily have been dismissed but her dark eyes and dark hair the slightly lowered pose of her oval face and the unvarying line of her fresh lips with the little sensual bulges at their corners drew the attention of people and their attention drawn they waited to be told something So merely because she told nothing, they fancied she had a great deal to tell. They attributed to her silence all the doubts they had concerning themselves.

Starting point is 01:08:40 Silence was to them always accusation. Her brother's attitude toward Doris was typical. He detested her, and yet was more pleased when she nodded at something he said than when others were loud with acclaim. he detested her because she made him feel she was his superior in what way she was superior he didn't know and why he felt it he couldn't understand but he sensed she was some one who had no respect for the ideal bazin and no particular love for his creator she had also a way of deflating him he felt sometimes as a toy balloon might feel in the presence of a child with a pin he never ignored her he watched her always and studied her carefully he did not desire to please her but he felt that until he had perfected the ideal bazin to a point where he would be acceptable to doris admired by doris his creation would be lacking in something vital

Starting point is 01:09:49 as the breakfast came to an end her brother focused upon doris this was invariably the effect of her silence she was as yet unconscious of it had you asked her why she spoke so little and why she neither smiled nor frowned at people she would have thought awhile and then with a shrug replied why i hadn't noticed later when she was alone she would have continued thinking of the question and perhaps said to herself it must be because they don't interest me they seem so silly and unreal what are you doing to-day bazin asked her she answered nothing he noticed she failed to add why he resented her lack of curiosity Fanny would have said, Nothing, why do you ask? But Fanny was a good fellow, a lively, amusing child. Mrs. Gilchrist and Aubrey are coming over later,

Starting point is 01:11:01 Mrs. Bazine announced. She makes me tired, Fanny smiled. And somebody ought to pull dear Aubrey's nose just to see if he's really alive. He's too dignified. Her brother, nodded. Do you know him?

Starting point is 01:11:20 Fanny asked Keegan. Slightly, said Keegan. I've read one or two of his books. They're very interesting. He paused, hoping that everyone agreed with him. Everyone did, except Doris. What's the matter, Dory? Don't you like Aubrey's works?

Starting point is 01:11:42 Her brother asked. Doris smiled vaguely. i've never read anything he's written she said i don't know kegan looked at her uncomfortably he felt he disliked her and he would have been pleased to ignore her but the fact that she seemed to have anticipated him in this respect and to have ignored him first piqued him i think judge smith and henrietta will be over later bazin addressed his mother judge smith was the august and senior partner of the law firm that had taken young bazin into its office yes aubrey told me mrs bazin said casually i think they're engaged who henrietta from fanny her mother nodded she stood up and the group sauntered into the living room kegan approached fanny her freshness made him feel sad let's sit here fanny whispered as he drew near her she employed the whisper frequently it usually brought a gleam into the eyes of her vis a vis as if she had promised something to appear to promise something was fanny's chief object in life it was the basis of her growing popularity

Starting point is 01:13:13 the two sat down in a corner of the room secluded from the others kegan had interested her at least his far-away unappraising look had interested her she preferred men more appraising and less far away her object now was to reduce her brother's friend to an admirer admirers bored her but the process of converting strangers particularly far away and unappraising strangers into admirers was diverting. Keegan had other plans. A desire to repent aloud had been growing in Keegan. The girl's bright face and virginal air had been inspiring him. He wanted to tell her how unclean he was and how ashamed of the things he had done.

Starting point is 01:14:08 He wanted to denounce sin. He felt tired. fanny talked and he listened he wanted to weep he thought her fingers were beautiful and white he would have liked to kneel beside her weeping his head against her and her cool white fingers running over his face it would be a sort of absolution a maternal absolution in the meantime his silence piqued her you don't seem very interested in what i'm saying she interrupted herself she looked at him and instinct supplied her with a new attack where were you and george last night she asked mother was furious about it kegan looked sad his blond face collapsed men are awful rotters he answered lowering his voice oh i don't know not all men yes all men savagely why do you say that because kegan hesitated mysterious impulses were operating behind his talk the night's debauch had sickened him he was experiencing that depressing type of virtue which usually comes as a reaction from an orgy

Starting point is 01:15:39 His indignation at the bestiality of the male and the moral rottenness of life was a vindication of the temporary weakened state the knight had induced in him. By denouncing sex, he excused the disturbing absence of it in himself. He was, however, not content to vindicate the absence in himself of sensual excitement. He would also make use of his lassitude by transatlose. the enervation it produced into self-enobling emotions, into purity, innate, and triumphant. He experienced high-minded ideas and an exaltation of spirit. Because, he repeated, finding it difficult to choose words sufficiently emasculated

Starting point is 01:16:30 to reflect the phenomenal purity of his mind, well, if women knew they would never talk to men, But women are so good, that is decent women, that they simply don't understand and can't understand what it is. About bad men? Fanny whispered. Keegan nodded. And are all men bad? she asked. Again, Kegan nodded, this time more sadly. It was a nod of confession and purity.

Starting point is 01:17:07 In it he felt his obscene past and his pious future embrace each other, one whispering, Forgive, and the other whispering, Yes, yes, all is forgiven. Tears warmed his throat. Fanny's eyes looked at him with an odd excitement. Her mind was, as always, conveniently blank of thought. Thoughts would have served only to imagine. embarrass and handicap her. She was able to enjoy herself more easily without thinking. It was a ruse

Starting point is 01:17:46 which enabled her to regard herself as a clean-minded girl. Young men had frequently taken advantage of her kindness and grown bold. They would, during a tender embrace, sometimes take liberties, or draw her close and press themselves against her. It was at this point, that her mind would awake like a burglar alarm suddenly set off. It rang and clanged, an outraged and intimidating ding-dong of virtuous platitudes which she had incongruously rigged up in the sensual warmth of her nature. But lately, the mechanism by which she routed her would-be seducers did not quite satisfy her.

Starting point is 01:18:32 At twenty, she had grown fearful. When she was younger, the men she had grown, she led on were no more than boys the mechanism had sufficed for them but the last two years had witnessed a change in her would-be seducers they had grown up these males she remembered always uncomfortably a young man who had burst into laughter during her outraged denunciation of him he had said to her listen girl if i wanted you all i would have to do is tell you to shut up and slap your face and you would your how dare you don't go with me i've known too many girls like you but i don't want you not after this if it'll do you any good i'll tell you now that i won't forget you for a long time whenever i want a good laugh i'll think of you a good laugh i'll think of you a good good laugh i'll think of you you you. There's a name for your kind, and he had used a phrase that nauseated her. The incident had occurred on a Sunday evening in the hallway. He had reached up,

Starting point is 01:19:47 taken his hat from the rack, and without further comment, walked out. Fanny had spent the night weeping with shame. The memory of the young man's words made spooning impossible for a month. She was essentially an honest person and unable to do a thing she knew was wrong. Her only hope of pleasing herself and indulging her growing sensuality lay in remaining sincerely oblivious to what she was doing. As long as the man's words stuck in her memory, it was impossible to remain oblivious. They had awakened no line of reasoning or self-accusation in her mind. Her mind was still conveniently blank. The youth's denunciation lay like a foreign substance

Starting point is 01:20:39 in it, a substance which, fortunately, time was able to dissolve. After a month of embittered virtue, Fanny returned warily to her former tactics. She was cautious enough to begin with men as young as herself. One night in April she gave her lips again. They had been making candy in the kitchen. She turned the light out as they were leaving. The young man stood in front of her in the dark. His arms went shyly around her. With a satisfied thrill, she shut her eyes and allowed the boy to kiss her. A languor overcame her. She ran her fingers through her. She ran her fingers through. She, his thick hair and gently pressed closer to him. The warning sounded sooner than usual, and in a surprising way. It came from within this time. The boy had not grown bold. He was enjoying her

Starting point is 01:21:43 lips shyly, and his embrace was almost that of a dancing partner. Nevertheless, the burglar alarm clang-clanged. Her body had grown hot. the impulse to crush herself against the boy to open her mouth to embrace him fiercely throbbed in her and bewildering sensations were bursting unsatisfactory warmth in her blood she hesitated she might secretly yield to these demands he would remain unaware of it and there would be no danger but the alarm finally penetrated the fog of her senses She was unable this time to shut off the current of her passion by the burst of a sudden virtuous anger. The mechanism of her retreat had always been simple, a trick of turning her sensual excitement into indignation, of energizing the virtuous platitudes rigged up in her mind

Starting point is 01:22:47 by the passion the caresses had stirred. The greater this passion, the more violently her pulse beat, the more violently the platitudes would clang, and the more outraged her, How dare you, would sound. But it was impossible to say anything this time. Her hands pushed suddenly at the politely amorous youth. His embrace skipped from her as if it had been waiting for such a remonstrance.

Starting point is 01:23:17 She stood with her head whirling. She felt limp and ill at ease. Don't you love me? the young man whispered. The lameness of his voice would ordinarily have made her smile. But now the words seemed to draw her. She wanted to answer them, to say, yes. For the moment, it seemed as if she must confess she loved this impossible young man.

Starting point is 01:23:47 She walked quickly out of the dark hallway. In the lighted room, she was ashamed. of herself. Her body tingled with unaccountable pains. She managed to survive the evening without revealing herself. She was grateful for the youth's stupidity. When she lay in bed, she closed her eyes firmly and tried to sleep. But her body disturbed her. Sensations that lured and frightened played furtively throughout it. She lay stretching, and sighing. Later, overcome with the nervous weariness, she fell asleep. On awaking, she remembered her triumph and felt proud. In retrospect, the sensations she had felt and the temptations

Starting point is 01:24:40 that had urged her seemed distasteful. Years before, she had rationalized her behavior toward young men by inventing a code. The code was based on the fact that she was based on the that hugging and kissing and the pleasure these inspired were in no way connected with the other. When she thought of more intimate relations, it was always in some such phrase. She was completely ignorant of the physiological mechanics of marriage, but her ignorance inspired no curiosity. She did not think of it as a logical culmination of the feeling and braces gave her. She had a definite attitude toward the other.

Starting point is 01:25:27 It was a thing separated from her numerous experiences by a gulf. There was only one bridge across, marriage. Kagan interested her. Since the incident of the embarrassed young man with whom she had made candy in the kitchen, she had been secretly on the lookout for someone like him. She wanted someone with whom. she could repeat the startling experience of that other evening without letting herself into danger. Someone who would remain oblivious to the passion his caresses aroused, and so allow her to

Starting point is 01:26:04 enjoy slyly the sensations whose memory had never left her. She looked around the room. Doris had gone upstairs, and George was not to be seen. Her mother was reading behind a large table. tell me why are men bad she asked in a whisper her blue eyes were wide an air of altruistic sorrow surrounded her she grieved for men the question appealed to keegan his eyes grew moist he was unable to understand this impulse to weep but somehow it was pleasant they're not bad he answered softly it's only that they don't realize till too late if all women were like you there would be no bad men oh then it's the woman's fault kegan nodded but said not exactly it's like figuring which came first into the world the egg or the chicken that laid it's hard telling whether women

Starting point is 01:27:18 are bad because men have made them so, or whether men are bad because women gave them chances to be. That is, that kind of women, you know. He felt elated at his tolerance. A few minutes ago he had been denouncing bad women in his mind, but now it pleased him to be broader. Fanny was looking at him with cheeks flushed. Her mother had risen. I think I'll go to church, Mrs. Bazine said. Do you want to come along? Not today, Mother dear, Fanny answered. Kegan was on his feet.

Starting point is 01:28:02 If you want to, he offered gallantly to the girl. I usually love to, Fanny sighed, but I don't feel quite like it today. You go along, Mother. Mrs. Bizzine small. smiled and left the room. Fanny heard her brother talking in the hall. I think I'll go with you, mother. She listened to Keegan in silence, waiting for the outer door to close. Now they were alone, except for Doris upstairs.

Starting point is 01:28:38 I know how you must feel about it, she said, but I don't understand how a man like you or George can do such things. It must be be awful. She paused, blushing, and added in a whisper, Horrible! Keegan nodded and felt overcome as he watched her shudder and draw her shoulders nervously together. He covered his face with his hands. This was, he felt, being almost too dramatic to hide his face, but his virtue demanded dramatics.

Starting point is 01:29:15 He wanted to talk facts now, confess facts. By denouncing what he had done during the night, he would increase his present emotion of chastity. Don't, he said, let's talk of it. His eyes grew wet again. He was tired. If only life were as clean as this girl he was talking to. If only life were beautiful and chased, and there were no sex, no sin. Men and women, just... just sweet friends. But life was different. It was full of unclean things.

Starting point is 01:29:55 He couldn't help it what he did. He didn't want to do it. But life surrounded him that way with things unclean. He wept. Fanny hesitated. Her face had grown colored and her nerves were alive. She must do something. Her fingers desire to.

Starting point is 01:30:17 to caress Keegan's hair, and she thought how nice it would be to be kissed by him. But she resolutely barred further thoughts from her mind. It was wrong to think about such things. Fanny's code would allow her to do nothing wrong if she knew it. She leaned forward, impulsively. He was sitting on a window seat. Her hands touched his covered face. You mustn't, she said.

Starting point is 01:30:47 said. He was sorry for life, for its uncleanliness. He would like to go somewhere far away where clean clouds and a beautiful sea were just as God had made them. And there he would like to sit with this girl, their hearts beautifully sad. She stroked his hair shyly with maternal fingers. He felt the caress and his heart melted. Its sin poured out. It's poured out. It's leaving him exultedly cleansed. Yes, she understood him, the ache of repentance in his soul, the nostalgia for cleanliness that hurt him so. She understood, and she was telling him so with her fingers.

Starting point is 01:31:35 Poor boy, she whispered, because he was weeping. I'm so sorry. You won't again, ever, will you? No, Keegan mumbled, tremulous. It was easy and exulting to confess and promise in this way, without mentioning anything by name, just by sound. I'm so glad, she whispered, as if they were in church. If I have done that for you, you have, he agreed, I feel like a, like a dog. Don't!

Starting point is 01:32:15 Her fingers were playing over his cheek. cheek. She could be bold. A man in tears was harmless. She stood up with determination and sat down close beside him. She took his head in her hands, and looking with clear understanding eyes into his, shook her head sadly. You need a rest, she whispered. Here, rest like this. She placed his head as if he were a child on her shoulder. Kegan's heart contracted with remorse at the innocence of the gesture. Her purity was something poignant.

Starting point is 01:32:57 He closed his eyes and drifted into an innocuous satisfaction. This was a realization of his hopes for purity. He recalled with bitterness the filthy embraces of the night. How superior this was! How much cleaner! wait a minute fanny murmured a wholesome matter-of-fact maternalism in her voice you lie down in rest like this she assumed the proprietary gestures remembered from her childhood when she had played house with little boys and girls and guided kegan to stretch his legs on the window-seat he grinned apologetically

Starting point is 01:33:42 fanny sat down and placed his head in her lap her hands gently caressing his hair now sleep she murmured there's nobody in the house and you can get a good long rest kegan shut his eyes a blissful innervation stole over him his heart felt grateful she was like a mother might be every one had a mother except him you're so kind he sighed he had known fanny for several months only and had never talked to her alone before but now it seemed to him she was his oldest and most intimate friend because she understood he thought of her as a companion of his better self the warmth of her lap soothed him unaware he dropped into a half-dose the man's head lying heavily against her body began to stir her senses she made certain first that he was not pressing himself against her no he was merely lying naturally a tenderness grew in her heart she murmured to herself poor boy poor boy this wasn't quite as it had been in the kitchen that evening the murmur continued as her face grew flushed and she breathed unevenly she wanted to stretch and sigh kegan stirred a fear came that he realized her sensations he was playing possum no she watched his eyes open

Starting point is 01:35:32 and noted their stare of filmy tenderness. You're so sweet, he whispered. She smiled pitifully at him and said, Rest, just rest. I feel so sorry for you. In fact, imposed upon the excitement which the pressure of his head against her aroused was a feeling of Samaritan pity.

Starting point is 01:35:59 However, she wondered without displacing this emotion, of altruistic concern for the young man, how far she dared go. She wished that his hands would touch her, but they would have to stand up for that. Oh, she moved Kegan's head gently away. I thought I heard someone. Slipping to her feet, she stared eagerly toward the door. Kegan straightened himself. He looked at her drowsily.

Starting point is 01:36:30 It's no one, she smiled. Her eyes covered him with tender interest. He thought of some picture of a saint, St. Cecilia, or someone like that. Why don't you go up in George's room, she asked. She gave him her hand as if to assist him in a comradly way to rise. He stood up slowly. You don't know what you've done. done for me, he began.

Starting point is 01:37:03 You're so different, so good. She smiled and made a pretense of assisting him further by passing her arm gently around him. I don't know what it is, he murmured. He stopped. His heart was hurting him with longing. He was unclean, but this beautiful saint would cleanse him, purify him. She was a part of life he desired, the clean things. But he was afraid.

Starting point is 01:37:37 How could he after last night? How could he dare? She would certainly misunderstand if he touched her. She would think he was a scoundrel. Fanny, he whispered. She looked at him with intensely tender eyes, as a mother might regard a forgiven child. He embraced her, his hands resting only lightly on her back.

Starting point is 01:38:04 "'Forgive me,' he mumbled. "'But everything's so rotten. "'I feel like such a cad after what I've done. "'You—you make me almost happy again.' His mind was pleasantly fogged. He was thinking of himself as a despicable sinner receiving mysterious absolution. She said nothing but let herself come closer. She was adroit, and he remained unaware

Starting point is 01:38:34 that she had pressed herself tautly against him. He was concerned entirely with the purity of his caress. He read in her eyes and flushed face a forgiveness, an absolution. Her grip on him that had grown firm was the grip of a woman raising him out of the hell in which he had wallowed. His senses, deadened by debauch, failed to detect the pressure of her clinging. She could dare. An intensity came slowly into her nerves. She would like to move, to crush herself against him. But she managed to restrain herself. She began to weep.

Starting point is 01:39:21 Don't, he whispered. You mustn't. I'm... I'm not as bad as all that." She managed to say, "'Oh, I feel so sorry for you. It just hurts me to think of you like that. Promise me you'll never again. Please, promise me, promise me.' Her words, despite her, grew wild.

Starting point is 01:39:50 She raised her eyes feverishly, and, tightening her arms, pressed herself to him. The man's harmlessness had betrayed her. She continued to weep. Promise me, you'll never be bad like that again. Her emotion, reaching its depth, sent a delicious sense through her. She embraced him for a moment. In the receding fog of her satisfied impulse, she heard him answering, tears in his voice. You're so sweet, so wonderful. Oh, forgive me, I'll never be bad again.

Starting point is 01:40:31 Forgive me. End of Chapter 3. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 4 of Gargoyles. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 4.

Starting point is 01:41:03 Judge Percival's Smith was a fastidious gentleman who boasted of his age as a contrast to his virility. Sixty-two, he pronounced impressively, and he would wait for people to look at him in amazement, fortunately unaware of the fact that they had thought him at least seventy. His wife had died when he was forty-six. She had never managed to understand him, chiefly because he had remained polite to her through 18 years of marriage. She had grown to regard him with awe.

Starting point is 01:41:40 Her friends always referred to him as a gentleman, a gentleman of the old school. This was because he had a deep voice and enunciated clearly and professed a consistent preference for the days when men were men and women were women. His friends mistook the clarity of his enunciation for a clarity of thought,

Starting point is 01:42:02 an error which found social vindication in the fact that he had been on the bench nine years. Aside from his consistent preference, his views on current issues were also those of a gentleman. Why, it was difficult to determine, but he supplied their identity himself by clinching his arguments with the question, I don't see, sir, how a gentleman can think otherwise. He was often considered old-fashioned, but he was admired for this. In discussing religion, he would say, I am not one to quibble with my maker or with any of his holy decisions. I believe absolutely in the gospel of infant damnation.

Starting point is 01:42:49 A religion with loopholes is not a religion. Either there is a god or there isn't. If there is, and you accept him, then you. accept him. You do not argue with him. I don't see, sir, how a gentleman can think otherwise. Concerning women, he would say, Women represent the finer things of life. Not for them the turmoil and strife of economic battle. Their function in the scheme of things is obvious, sir. They were placed in the world by a wise maker in order to bring sweetness, purity, and light to be.

Starting point is 01:43:29 upon the strivings of man. A woman's hearthstone is her altar. No, they are not the equal of man. They are his compliment. Man is gross. Woman is fine and sweet. I do not believe in any of these disgusting ideas which seek to lower her from the altar she now occupies

Starting point is 01:43:52 in the eyes of all gentlemen. When he delivered himself of these utterances, he managed always to give to them the certainty of a man who was pronouncing judgments. He was admired for this certainty. People who felt doubts in their minds were always pleased to hear the judge make pronouncements. They felt that it was impossible that a man who spoke so clearly, whose eye looked so unflinchingly at one, and whose manners were so perfect, could be wrong.

Starting point is 01:44:26 He might not be quite as modern, as some folks, but he knew what he was talking about. He was the stentorian and impressive interpreter to them of a world they understood. The ideas which flourished in this world were in the main dead or dying, but this fact only lent a further impressiveness to them and to him. People who sought to argue with Judge Smith

Starting point is 01:44:53 usually ended by stuttering and growing red-faced. they felt as they talked and watched his blue eyes narrowing and his lips tightening that they were talking themselves outside of the pale his silence became an excommunication they read ostracism in his frown and began to fumble for words trying to propitiate him in one breath while presenting their side of the case to him in another but he was not to be deceived by this ruse he would sit poised and grimly attentive like a man judiciously enduring the presence of blasphemy but under great emotional strain when they concluded it was frequently unnecessary for him to offer counter-arguments his opponents his opponents felt their defeat in the knowledge of his superiority not as a thinker but his superiority as a man of inviolable stance his superiority as a gentleman in eighteen years of close contact his wife had never penetrated the shell of certitude and personal elegance within which the judge moved during their hours of intimacy he revealed himself as a man of normal passions but even during these he was solicitous unbending and a gentleman in the morning dressed his white napkin tucked under his ruddy face, he would be again, Judge Smith.

Starting point is 01:46:29 She had tried several times early in their merit to carry the intimacy of the bedroom to the breakfast table. He had listened to her endearments and furtive reminiscences at such moments, with eyes seemingly incapable of comprehending, and she had felt each time that her talk was obscene and grown frightened. Her death brought no perceptible. change in Judge Smith's life. He continued a gentleman. His name appeared at intervals in the newspapers as having gone to Washington

Starting point is 01:47:03 to argue a case before the Supreme Court. His friends felt on reading this that the Supreme Court was an institution perfectly fitted to him. It was hard to imagine anybody but a man who looked and acted like Judge Smith arguing a case in the Supreme Court. the smith home a brownstone house in prairie avenue was occupied by the judge his daughter henrietta and a housekeeper henrietta had finished boarding school at nineteen she had since then busied herself as an assistant housekeeper

Starting point is 01:47:42 at twenty-one she impressed people with being as naive and fresh as a girl of seventeen it was hard to think of her as in her twenties she was a round-eyed round-faced child with fluffy blond hair a small-boned body and a general air of juvenile fragility she talked very little but bubbled with exclamations of delight excitement enthusiasm astonishment these she was continually employing regardless of their incongruity she greeted people with delight saying Oh, I'm so glad to see you. Isn't it wonderful? And managed to scatter a dozen exclamation marks through the sentences. If one said to her, Did you see Sothern and Marlowe last week? She replied excitedly,

Starting point is 01:48:38 Oh, no, I missed them. I'm so sorry. Aren't they wonderful? Asked for an opinion of a new hat, she would exude the same exclamation marks in, oh, it's simply too adorable for words. I'm just mad about it. And to such remarks as, I read in the paper the other day that President Roosevelt went fishing, she would offer a wide-eyed stare and exclaim, overcome with astonishment, why gracious, is that so? Isn't that awfully funny? And incomprehensibly she would laugh as if overcome with mirth.

Starting point is 01:49:19 people regarded her as a charmingly vivacious well-mannered girl her exclamations pleased them by lending an importance to their small talk a small talk which constituted nearly the whole of their conversational lives her explosive banalities invigorated them they said of her judge smith's daughter is so alive she's so fresh and young and so enthusiastic henrietta thought her father the greatest and most important man in the world she called him father stressing the first syllable in a manner that distinguished him from all other fathers her admiration satisfied the judge he demanded of her only obedience respect and chastity since she gave him these he looked upon her as a shining example of true womanhood to have searched for an inner life in henrietta would have been difficult she was unaware of any other henrietta than the surface she presented there was no secret calculation behind her manner her body at twenty-one was still as undisturbed by desires as her mind was by thought she was physically and mentally vacuous and the words that sometimes ran in her mind were parroting of things she had heard. Her days passed in a pleasant maze of trifles in which she exhausted her energies. Her manner of enthusiasm and astonishment was sincere. In her exaggerated exclamations,

Starting point is 01:51:05 the energies of her youth merely found a necessary and utterly respectable outlet. Her banalities were too vigorous to be aught but authentic and original. They were the enviably correct flower of her personality. The judge, however, had a side to his nature generally unsuspected among his friends. He was a drinker. He owed the resonant slowness of his speech, in fact, to the ravages of drink. His poise, his intimidating deliberateness, were likewise the result of drink. His mind had been somewhat enervated, and the spontaneity of his nerves somewhat impaired by thirty years of intensive drinking. His words followed his thoughts slowly and his gestures were moments behind the commands of his brain

Starting point is 01:52:03 centers. This general slowing up, the result of nerve exhaustion induced by his orgies, was readily accepted by his friends as an impressiveness of manner. In arguments he found himself frequently unable to follow the nimble phrases of an opponent. His resort to silence, a silence made seemingly pregnant by certain mannerisms, such as tightening of his lips, a drawing down of his nose, and a narrowing of his eyes, which were actually an effort to ward off a sleepiness continually hovering over him, this silence was a successful substitute. mainly the judge kept his orgies to himself.

Starting point is 01:52:50 During his married life, he had adroitly covered them up as business trips, cases and other cities. His habit was to start off at his club, to sit among a half-dozen men whose type he found agreeable, and drink slowly during the early part of the evening. The talk would gradually veer from politics and legal discussions to, women and anecdotes. In these the judge excelled. His fund of obscene stories was amazing. He related them with relish, and was proud of an ability to talk several dialects, such as German, Irish, Yiddish, Scotch, and Swedish. Among his club cronies, his drinking and alcoholic waggery, in no way reflected upon his status as a gentleman of

Starting point is 01:53:44 absolute respectability and discretion. In fact, they enhanced it. Among the judge's friends were lawyers of repute, financiers, and owners of large manufacturing plants. They were men usually past 50. Their comradeship was based chiefly on their recognition of each other's prestige. The publicity that had attended their lives gave them all an identical stamp. a self-consciousness. They felt themselves instinct with power and bent the greater part of their social energies to appearing democratic.

Starting point is 01:54:25 They desired, as much as they desired anything, the flattery which lay in the comment, Oh, he's very democratic, just plain ordinary folks. They felt an exciting inference in this criticism. The inference was that, considering their power and superiority, one had to marvel at the fact of their dissimulation, their democracy. Thus they relished always lending themselves to projects, to situations which earned for them the odd avowal of inferiors, that they were just folks.

Starting point is 01:55:03 A certain shrewdness, as well as flattery which inspired them, they were aware that people often preferred confessing the superiority of their betters by admitting in awe that, after all, he's just like us in many respects. On occasions, when a group of them gathered at their club, they stepped partly out of the characterizations of great men which they affected during most of their day, drinking, taking their turns telling stories, or pointing up incidents by the, did you ever hear the one about the swede who went to a picnic with his best girl method they always welcome judge smith they were inclined to overlook a few things in his favor if he did seem to have an unnecessary fund of smutty tales there was on the other hand the fact that he was a judge and therefore above the anecdotes he told like the judge they too were men with firmly rooted convictions

Starting point is 01:56:07 on the subject of morality and if they laughed at stories over their highballs that flouted decency and made a mock of virtue there was this exonerating factor to be considered men sure of themselves and subscribing unflinchingly to the uncompromising standards of conduct necessary to maintain the morale of the community such men could without danger unbend among themselves for morrow was, in its deepest sense, the protection of others and not of oneself. As the group thinned out on such occasions, Judge Smith would rise, and in the manner of a man returning to the higher and more important duties of life bid his fellows good night. A very pleasant evening, gentlemen, he would pronounce, but duty calls, he would bow stiffly. long drinking had made him master to an astonishing point of his physical being while under the influence of drink bowing he would walk with dignity from the room emerge into the street and enter one of the cabs a half-hour later would find him disporting himself in one of his favorite disorderly houses here with the aid of further drink the judge became a curious spectacle

Starting point is 01:57:37 he was generally hailed in the places that knew him as the wild old boy and his arrival although greeted with enthusiasm was a matter of secret chagrin to the landladies of his acquaintance it was his habit to indulge in filthy insults hurling astounding obscenities at the half-drunken inmates he would frequently become violent and throw bottles around break mirrors and electric bulks and smashed chairs. It was difficult to grow angry with him at such times, because he covered his violences and insults with a continuous roar of laughter, as if they were actually the product of a vast rabelaisian good humor. His insults, the obscene invective he hurled at the partners in his orgy, were a curious phase. They were the product of a process of projection. His normal mind, still alive under the paralysis of alcohol, pronounced these outraged denunciations of his behavior against himself.

Starting point is 01:58:47 His virtue and decency cried a savage disgust, and he must rid himself of these cries, find an outlet for his self-revolions, if he desired to continue the debauch, which was also an outlet for things inside him, things that slept too violently under the repressions his shell thus he rationalized his two selves by giving voice to the terrific protests of his virtue simultaneously he hid himself from their object by fastening the insults that poured into his thought upon those around him the women explained among each other in their own words that he was a filthy old man and ought to be ashamed of himself end of chapter four Recording by Roger Maline Chapter 5 of Gargoyles This Libervox recording is in the public domain

Starting point is 01:59:54 Recording by Roger Maline Gargoyles by Ben Hecht Chapter 5 It was afternoon Mrs. Bazine listened to Judge Smith explaining the new moving pictures that were being shown at the vaudeville theaters It's all part of the craze for news,

Starting point is 02:00:17 things, he was saying, and these awful pictures are merely a fad. There is nothing of basic appeal for Americans in them, and they'll die out in a year or so. Mrs. Bazine was always impressed by the judge. He had three days before been on one of his debauches. His manner, as a result, was heavier and his words slower. After one of his wild nights, the judge sought to efface the memory of the uncleanliness. by heightening his personal appearance. He would indulge himself in Turkish baths, facial massages, hair shampoos, manicures, and changes of linen during the day.

Starting point is 02:01:00 The sight of himself immaculately dressed, spotless, his face, collar, nails, and shoes shining, gave him a feeling of reassurance. Clothes and appearance had more and more become a fetish with him until he had developed into a fop. There was a certain passion in his demand for cleanliness. A disordered tie would mysteriously depress him. A spot on his trousers or shoes would preoccupy him until its removal.

Starting point is 02:01:34 Once, while on his way from the theater, he had been splashed by a horse. Unaware of the accident at the time he had gone to a restaurant. There he had noticed the condition. of his clothes. The mud had reached as high as his shoulder. A nausea overcame him. He hurried to the lavatory and cleaned his clothes. His daughter admired her father for his fastidiousness. She looked upon all other men as somewhat sloppy in comparison. It isn't just that father dresses well, she said, but he's so particular about everything, about his plates and forks, and his bedroom must be bright as a new pin oh it's just wonderful for a man to be thoroughly clean like that although the judge had spoken to mrs bazin it was her son who answered

Starting point is 02:02:29 i saw the pictures at the vaudeville the other evening he said and i quite agree with you judge the judge nodded pleasantly he liked bazine and had already prophesied a future for him henrietta was informing doris of the trouble they were having with the church choir dr blossom she was saying is just absolutely at his wit's end we can't get anybody anybody at all that's at all suitable mrs gilchrist and aubrey are coming over mrs bazzieen remarked to the judge she was unable to keep a sound of pride out of her voice a very fine woman an exceptionally fine woman he answered mrs bazine nodded bazin sat down beside his sister doris he was interested in henrietta the news of her approaching engagement had exhilarated this interest he had been a half-hearted wooer himself when he first came out of college as she rattled on he was thinking she has nice eyes she probably doesn't love aubrey he thought of aubrey a putty-faced swell-headed fool. He could put it all over him, even as a writer, if you wanted to. I hear, he said aloud, that you and Aubrey are engaged, or almost engaged. Why, the idea! Gracious! a disturbed giggle.

Starting point is 02:04:08 Where on earth did you hear that? Father hasn't announced it yet. A little bird, smiled Bazine. Doris looked at it. and frowned. What do you say we pop some corn, he announced. One of Bazine's most engaging facilities was an ability to reflect in his own words and actions the character of those to whom he talked. Judge Smith regarded him as a young man of stable ideas and profound seriousness.

Starting point is 02:04:43 Henrietta looked upon him as a charming, light-hearted youth who was able to play. There were others to whom he appealed separately as a young man of culture, modern to his fingertips, as a man of pious kindness, as a man interested exclusively in politics, in economics, in literature, in women. His pose was seemingly at the mercy of his audience. He did not deliberately seek to make himself agreeable by presenting exteriors acceptable to his friends. His proteanism was in the main unconscious. It was the result of an underlying desire to impress men and women he knew with his superiority. He had found instinctively that a short cut to such impression was not contradictions, but agreement.

Starting point is 02:05:38 He would not merely say, yes, and please his listener by subscribing wholeheartedly to the ideas or points of view under discussion. he would take these ideas and points of view and develop them show with a sincere creative enthusiasm why they were correct and how astoundingly correct they were he was usually cleverer than the people with whom he agreed this made it possible for him to develop their ideas to add to them supply them with nuances and far-reaching overtones of which their originators had had no inkling when he had finished they would find themselves warmly applauding what he had said admiring his sanity and intelligence it was no longer bazin who agreed with them they agreed with bazin and each of them went away saying a remarkable young man full of very fine worth-while ideas and able to express himself they were conscious while praising him that they were also praising themselves. Although they were unaware of the adroit theft committed by Buzine and unable to follow the way in which he filched their little prejudices and inflated them to noble proportions with his cleverness, they felt a kinship with the young man. Their inferior egoism did not

Starting point is 02:07:06 demand recognition as collaborator. They were warmed with the emotion of being a rapport with someone whom they admired. So often clever people were people with whom, somehow, one had little or nothing in common. But Bazine was a clever person with whom everyone seemingly had everything in common, and they were delighted to have things in common with a clever man. There were occasions on which Bazine's cleverness was put to a difficult test. These came when a number of people, each of whom knew him differently, to each of whom he had identified himself as a champion of divergent opinions, assembled in his presence. Bazine, it usually happened, was the friend in common, and therefore the pivot of the vague debates which sometimes started,

Starting point is 02:08:02 the awkward exchange of half-remembered arguments which constituted the intellectual life of his friends, as the make-believe of playing house had constituted their adult life when they were children but at such times bazin revealed his interesting talents as a compromiser fence-stradler pacifier without espousing any of the sides presented without denial or affirmation he managed to convince the assemblage that he was a champion of all and detractor of none he pretended a way a worldly tolerance, saying such things as, Well, now, there are always two sides to a question, and a man who closes his mind to either side is likely as not to find himself in the dark. What Henning says is interesting. I can entirely understand it and see the reasons for it.

Starting point is 02:09:00 He sees the thing in a clear, definite manner. Yet what Stoffel says is also interesting, and, of course, entertain. I don't mean that I believe two sides to a question can both be the right sides, but it's my experience that there's an element of truth as well as of error in both sides. And I'm not so convinced that Henning and Stoffel actually differ. Often people meaning the same thing get into violent arguments because they misunderstand each other. In this way he would convince both his friends that they were both men of intelligence, which is more flattering than being merely men of intelligent views.

Starting point is 02:09:45 And what was more important, he would give the listeners the impression of a calm, deliberative, bazine, not to be taken in by the tricks of prejudice and speech, which caused men to knock their heads together in endless argument. Henrietta accompanied him into the kitchen, in quest of corn to pop. Doris remained behind, staring disinterested. at the judge who was talking to her mother. She had noticed something about the man that displeased her. She kept it, however, to herself. When he shook hands with her, he assumed a paternal manner. He said to her, Well, my dear child, and how are you today? Serious as ever, I see. I understand that you and my little girl had quite an interesting time at the choir practice Saturday evening.

Starting point is 02:10:37 Dear me, you will both soon be grown up and young ladies before I'm aware of it. He talked with a kittenish banter in his voice, as if he were patting a child of five on the head. But he held her hand during his entire speech, and his soft fingertips pressed moistly into her palm. It was hard at first to detect, but after a long time, Doris understood. Fanny had told her in an unsolicited confession that young men did that when they wanted to be familiar with a girl. It was a familiarity which only bad girls understood. Fanny added that a number of nice men whom she never would have suspected of such a loathing thing had done that to her hand, but that the way to get the better of them was merely to pretend you didn't know anything about it.

Starting point is 02:11:32 doris disgusted by her sister's chatter had remembered judge smith the judge always did that moving his finger-tips as if he were unaware of the fact this afternoon he had done it again she had never been able to see the judge as her mother and brother saw him to doris there was something intangibly repulsive about his flabby smooth-shaven face about his shining linen and deliberate manner that impressed everybody. She did not resent the things he said. To these she was, in fact, indifferent. But the man's personality awakened a revulsion in her. She did not explain it to herself. She was aware only that she felt uncomfortable when he looked at her,

Starting point is 02:12:23 and that when he beamed his kindliest or boomed most virtuously, she felt like sinking lower in her chair and contorting her face with shame, not for herself, but for him. Bazine and Henrietta had returned to the room. A great fire was burning wanly. Bazine, squatting down like an elated boy, arranged a cushion for her.

Starting point is 02:12:50 Oh, we've forgotten the thingamabob, he exclaimed. Come help me find that. Henrietta skipped excitedly after him. moments like this were dear to henrietta looking for thingumabobs planning popcorn feasts having lots of fun and in a way that was intelligent in the kitchen bazin searched for a minute and then turned to the girl with a laugh i wanted to ask you something he said that's why i lured you out again for heaven's sake gracious aren't you ashamed of yourself george beseen She laughed with him. The thought had secured to him that it would be interesting

Starting point is 02:13:36 to take Henrietta away from Aubrey. He didn't want her himself for any particular purpose. She was not a girl one could seduce, or even desired to seduce, and marriage was miles from his head. Yet he had once held her hand while sitting on her father's porch

Starting point is 02:13:54 and whispered idiotic things to her. He had made love to her, said to her, Henny, dear, I'm wild about you. It annoyed him to think that Aubrey Gilchrist would marry her, would appropriate her, as if things he, Bazine, had said and done were of no possible consequence. In addition, he had always disliked Aubrey.

Starting point is 02:14:20 Henny, he said quickly. He had called her Henny two years before. Are you really in love with Aubrey? henrietta made a face and swung her shoulders like a child embarrassed like keegan he was physically tired from his night's debauch but in bazin there was no impulse to repent as he stood looking at the girl he grew curiously sensual in his thought the consciousness of his deaden nerves was an irritant to his vanity he was always doing things he felt disinclined to do as a result of his constant work of idealization also to follow one's impulse and act logically was what everyone did in a way if hugh kegan was tired he sighed and said so but bazin if he was tired would laugh and suggest adventures if kegan or the others he knew were elated over something they announced it naively like children but bazin edited his elation and often pretended to be bored and when he was actually bored he often pretended enthusiasm

Starting point is 02:15:37 such odd perversions had become a habit with bazin behind the confusion of purpose that inspired them was a certainty that in acting the way he did he distinguished himself from other people often no one was aware of course that he was acting that his enthusiasm was the heroic mask of weariness but bazin was enough of an egoist to enjoy secretly the emotion of superiority because he was tired and because he would have preferred ignoring the trim figure laughing beside him he deliberately took her hand and allowed his smile to grow serious now as he looked at her and saw her eyes soften his vanity clamored for satisfaction it was one of the moments in his life when his vanity most desired satisfaction proof of the high opinions he held of himself he was tired bored and without impulses to dominate others to possess himself of their regard and homage was the goal toward which he always built now the desire to possess himself of the regard and homage of the girl whose hand he was holding came acutely into his thought henny he whispered i'm sorry about you and aubrey why this was the sort of boy and girl scene at which she was almost adept people held hands and even kissed without altering the correct social tone or content of their talk because said bazin oh well because i love you the phrase stirred as it always did a faint emotion in his heart he had used it for

Starting point is 02:17:34 frequently, even with prostitutes, and it had always given him a fugitive sense of exultation. Walking alone in the street at night, he would sometimes whisper aloud, I love you, George, oh, I love you so. He would have no one in mind whom he might be quoting at the moment. The words would come and utter themselves and give him a sudden lift of spirit. It was like his other, self-conversation when walking along swiftly in the street, he would begin exclaiming under his breath, "'Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!'

Starting point is 02:18:14 The word, like his mysterious, "'I love you, George, came without cause or relation to his thoughts, and repeated itself on his lips. Henrietta was staring at him. It was chiefly because she was surprised. She remembered that they had been friends once and held hands, and that he had said things. But all that had been a part of a pretty game one played with boys, because they liked it, and because it was rather likable in itself. She was surprised now because he looked sad. Sadness in her mind was synonymous with seriousness.

Starting point is 02:18:58 People were never serious unless they were sad. when she wanted to be serious she would always lower her eyes and arrange her expression as if she were going to weep then people understood that what she said was really truly serious and not just part of the game people were always playing among themselves a game in which nothing was serious or funny or anything but just was because that was the way it should be bazin was pulling her slowly toward him don't you love me he asked don't you love me at all he was talking aloud to conceal the fact that he had drawn her to him and was placing his arms around her to do anything like that in silence would have frightened henrietta but to talk while one was doing it that made it seem less definite one could ignore what one could ignore what one would have frightened henrietta but to talk while one was doing it that made it seem less definite one could ignore what one was doing ignore the hands pressing one's shoulders and the touching of bodies by pretending to interest oneself entirely in the conversation bazin knew this because he had made love to girls and taken liberties as long as he kept talking and asking questions the girl would pretend she was so occupied in answering the questions and keeping up socially her end of the talk that she was oblivious to the liberties that were being taken with her henrietta answered why do you ask that do you really think you ought to ask me questions like that george bazin yes i do he said why shouldn't i

Starting point is 02:20:45 oh because because you're engaged to marion who told you that i know anybody could know that aren't you no more than you are to aubrey gracious aren't you the clever boy i declare engaged to aubrey heavens i'd like to know where you heard that a little bird told me it did not yes it did you know better than that george bazin i wish you'd tell me really why should i should i i'd like to know that's why i think i have a right to know oh but i did tell you something i told you i love you why george bazine during the talk bazin had moved her closer to him his arms were tightly around her and he had kissed her eyes and cheeks between his questions and answers the embrace had aroused no physical desire in him he was irritated by the coolness of his nerves he was irritated at his being unable to feel anything with his arms around a pretty girl usually the incident would have reached its climax with the half-kidated at his being unable to feel anything with his arms around a pretty girl usually the incident would have reached its climax with the half kiss he placed on her mouth that was as far as good girls went at this point they ordinarily said something like listen i want to tell you something i almost forgot and gently detaching themselves from one's arms continued to talk in the same tone they had used during the embrace about some event that had occurred during the week

Starting point is 02:22:38 and then one returned to the sitting-room and went on talking casually as if nothing had happened it was the height of bad taste to remind a good girl to-day that one had kissed her yesterday or to presume upon it in any way it was the height of bad taste also to resist when they gently pushed one away and said listen i want to tell you something i almost forgot bazin knew the simple technique of these virginal intrigues henrietta's hands were pressing him this was the signal to release her and pretend that nothing had happened ordinarily bazin would have complied he had no interest in the girl his original impulse to take her from aubrey had slipped from his mind but he had grown sad the mild sensual moment he would usually have experienced in the embrace had been missing. His tired nerves had not responded. Unable to exhilarate his senses, he sought to make up for the failure by treating his vanity to an exhilaration. This exhilaration would come if the girl he was holding grew suddenly sad, raised wide eyes to him, and in a shamed voice murmured, I love you, George, oh, I love you so. He was a little

Starting point is 02:24:05 would make her do this oh henny why don't you love me i want you so much all the time why george she had suspected something different about the game when it started and this was different even with aubrey it had not been as different as this abry's mother and her father had decided upon the engagement after aubrey had been fussing her for a few weeks but this was different george bazin was in love with her she had always liked him because her father said he was a fine promising young man and because he knew how to play and was really like herself in many ways she wondered what she should do she felt worried because she was afraid she would say something that wasn't right she couldn't ask him to let her go because he was only holding her lightly and she could move away if she wanted to she thought his eyes were sad and she felt suddenly sorry for him he had stopped talking and his eyes were sad they were looking at her and they made her feel sad too things were so different when one felt sad everything seemed to go away then and nothing remained everything went away and left one a little frightened as if the world were unreal and everybody was unreal and nothing really was she was frightened like that now or at least she thought it was fear then she saw it was something else her heart had started to pound heart and her throat fluttered inside.

Starting point is 02:25:54 No one had ever looked at her like this. So seriously, as if she were somebody very serious. It made her feel strange. She grew dizzy and her arms felt weak. She whispered his name and his hands crept over her cheeks. This thrilled her as if there were electricity in his fingers and frightened her again. but it was nice like being a little girl almost a baby and falling into an older man's arms her father's arms she could almost remember being a little girl and lying in her father's arms

Starting point is 02:26:37 do you love me she would answer this time yes she said oh george she hid her face against his coat bazin was careful not to embrace her her yes had given him an inexplicable moment he had felt himself expand under it in her unexpected submission he had never dreamed of such a thing ten minutes ago she became suddenly some one who was very rare and sweet he was still utterly oblivious of her and had it turned out to be marion in his arms instead of henrietta the difference would have made no change in him the thing that was rare and sweet was the exhilaration in his senses a purely spiritual exhilaration he enjoyed it as one might enjoy some unforeseen and startling gift he grew tender he wanted to kiss the eyes and hair of her who had given this gift to him the thing which felt so warm in his heart and tingled so pleasantly in his thought he must reward her somehow for having stirred in him this delicious excitement reward her for the sweet surfeit her surrender had given his vanity for a moment bewildered by this inner desire to express the gratitude he felt he stood trembling oh i love you so my darling he whispered you're so beautiful it was her reward for having surrendered to his unspoken demand. It was an expression of the overwhelming generosity that choked him.

Starting point is 02:28:26 He found in the saying of the words a sweetness, almost as keen as her surrender had afforded him. To hear himself say to someone, I love you, was mysteriously exhilarating. The thrill that accompanied his bestowl of largesse excited him to further experiment. He was not carried away, but he relish. the emotions between them, the sense of having triumphed, and the provoking sense of bestowing grandiose reward. Darling, tell me, please tell me, will you marry me? Oh, George!

Starting point is 02:29:07 Tell me, tell me! He was acting now, making his voice dramatic, pretending uncontrollable longings. She must say yes. he wanted her to and she must he did not want to marry her the thought had never occurred to him but it would be unbearable now unless she said yes he must pretend and act and make the thing end by her saying yes oh i can't tell you george dear you must please he had decided now finally to make her make her a contest of wills if he wanted a yes there must be a yes because he wanted it his arms crushed her he fastened against her he felt her resisting there was still no desire in him his arms were still dead but he could brook no resistance the fact of resistance was unimportant but the idea of being resisted fired him with a passion entirely cerebral he would warm her into saying yes stir her senses make her yield and her head swim until she said yes

Starting point is 02:30:34 i love you please say it say yes yes to what henrietta for an instant awoke from the confusions of the past few minutes her morality training coat of life and all sat up like a wary censor and surveyed the scene the censor nodded an affirmation it was all right go ahead with this affirmation her affirmation her body took fire The weakness she had been struggling against became a beautiful enervation, a lassitude that swept her unresistingly forward. She had never done this before. She struggled for a moment to recall the censor, the thing that had always directed her, but she seemed to have been deserted. She was alone with sensations. Her virginal mind was unable to identify the excitement rising in her. She waited while his caresses grew bolder.

Starting point is 02:31:39 Then, in a panic, born of a dim realization, she flung her arms passionately around Bazine and sobbed. Yes, yes, oh, George, I will! She felt at once that she had said it just in time, that it would have been sinful to continue another moment without promising she would marry him. Bazine released her slowly. the incident abruptly was over he had in fact lost interest in it immediately before she had spoken the thrill had come developed and gone a spiritual exultation which he had enjoyed to the utmost

Starting point is 02:32:21 but now it was over his vanity surfeited had withdrawn from the situation he was surprised to find himself looking at the girl with utter dispassion as if he was surprised to find himself looking at the girl with utter dispassion as if nothing had happened. Inwardly, he was amused. Such things were amusing, in a way. Moments in which one saw oneself as an outrageous actor, doing something ridiculous. It was like that now. Absurd.

Starting point is 02:32:52 But it had been pleasant. Curious, how pleasant. However, that was over. Henrietta would, of course, forget about it. And he, he was prepared. to return to the library and go on popping corn as if nothing had happened, absolutely nothing. But Henrietta leaned weakly against his arm. Oh, George, darling, do you really love me?

Starting point is 02:33:20 He answered out of a social respect for consistency and nothing else. He thought the question rather tactless. Of course he didn't love her, and she should have known better than to ask it. it had just been a game they had played while looking for the thingamabob yes henny of course her eyes were wide and her lips quivered she was looking at him as if he were doing something remarkable and she overcome with astonishment for an instant bazin wondered why the deuce he looked that way then he felt an unexpected chill that he dismissed promptly with an inwardly assured smiling, as he heard her saying, Oh, we'll be so happy together when we're married. Isn't it wonderful?

Starting point is 02:34:12 Just too wonderful for words to be married, together? Oh, George, I'm so happy. I love you so much. And Father will be so... End of Chapter 5. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 6 of Gargoyles. This Liber Vox recording is in the public.

Starting point is 02:34:46 Domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 6 They had not expected Mr. Gilchrist to come. Mr. Gilchrist was an undersized, mild little man with graying sideburns. When he was alone, he read a great deal. He had made money in the selling of expensive furniture. He was part owner of a store in Wabash Avenue.

Starting point is 02:35:16 it was generally understood that people with taste patronized the gilchrist warren establishment he arrived at the bazines with his wife and his son aubrey kegan and fanny had returned from a long walk they and the judge henrietta bazin and his mother and sister doris all expressed surprise at seeing mr gilchrist there was always about mr gilchrist the air of a museum piece a quaint museum piece such as a keen but sentimental collector might delight in the exclamations of surprise embarrassed the little man and he stood fingering his sideburns and trying to smile in just the correct way mr gilchrist's arrival anywhere always precipitated this air of surprise people said why mr gilchrist awfully glad to see you haven't seen you for an age well How are you? This was as if they were extremely surprised, but they weren't. They were merely annoyed, upset, vaguely hostile, and condescending. And these emotions, inspired by the innocent Mr. Gilchrist,

Starting point is 02:36:33 could best be concealed by the feigning of a correct social astonishment. To the quarry's shot at him, Mr. Gilchrist answered, Very well, thank you, thank you, very well, thank you. very well, thank you. After greeting him with these exclamation points, people immediately forgot he was present. Mr. Gilchrist would sit the rest of the evening ignored by everybody

Starting point is 02:36:58 and trying to the end to smile in just the correct way. Inside Mr. Gilchrist were many little lonelinesses. His head was full of things he had read, of plots, of great characters, even of epigrams, and biting iconoclasms. When people talked, he did his best to be attentive,

Starting point is 02:37:22 and if they talked about things that interested him, the kings of France, the Italian wars of the 15th century, the topography of early London and kindred subjects, his face would tremble with enthusiasms. He would listen, his eyes questing eagerly for epigrams, for illuminating sentences he might contribute. but his unegoistic love for the subject would make him inarticulate his eyes that had seemed about to speak of themselves that had seemed laden with excited informations would close and a chuckle would come from his lips

Starting point is 02:38:01 the caesars the borgias the medici's the bourbons the valois savonarola richelieu the various charles phillips williams henries the plumes the plumes the plumes headliners of history around whom had centered the hurdy-gurdy intrigues the circus romances and wars of vanished centuries these were the hale fellows of his imagination but people seldom talked of these names people were more interested in contemporary topics he did his best to be attentive but his thought played truant and before he knew it he would be going over secretly certain things in his head vion marlowe balzac dumas gotier sweetonius there was a rabble of them continually arguing and declaiming in mr gilchrist's head he liked to half-close his eyes and imagine what the great names used to have for breakfast what the great names would say if he were to enter their presents or if they were to come into this room he'd like to bring up in his mind pictures of old paris london Florence, Avignon, Vienna with their lopsided roofs, winding alleys, night watchmen, and King's guards. He could sit a whole evening this way, thinking, Then he came to an old inn, and there were lights inside, people drinking inside,

Starting point is 02:39:33 telling stories and laughing. The innkeeper was a man named Simon. The curious stranger looked about him with an imperious eye. These words murmuring in his head would conjure up the picture, and there would be no further need for words. He was content to sit in the old inn, noticing its quaint decorations, its quaint but romantic inmates. Adventures would follow, strange episodes, denouement, climaxes, all without words, as if he were watching a cinematograph. his attempted smile would remain a smile that concealed the fact that he was neither smiling at those around him nor aware of what they were saying for he would only half hear the chatter of the room and now and then nod his head vaguely at some question that people were answering as if he too were answering it he was almost sixty and lonely because he knew of no one to whom he could talk his wife

Starting point is 02:40:39 wife in particular was a person to whom he never dreamed of talking. He had only a dim idea of what he wanted to say to someone. But all his life he had been hoping to meet this one who would be like himself. This someone would be a friend whom he could take with him into places like the old inn and the crazily twisting streets of Old London or Paris. His days and years passed, however, without bringing him this companion. And outwardly he remained a mild little figure with sideburns, kindly tolerant toward everyone. When his dreams left him long enough to enable him

Starting point is 02:41:20 to notice closely those about him, a feeling of sadness would come. He would feel sorry for the men and women he saw gesturing and heard talking and laughing. He thought they must be like himself, looking for something. his faded eyes would peer caressingly from behind his glasses and he would make simple little remarks in an apologetic voice he would ask what they had been doing and when they answered in their careless matter-of-fact ways he would nod hopefully and appear pleased to see mr gilchrist in the midst of his family was to be convinced of the plausibility of immaculate conception it was difficult imagining mr kilchrist ever having done anything which might have resulted in fatherhood but more than that it was impossible even suggesting to oneself that his wife had ever received the embraces of a man had ever so far forgotten the proprieties as to permit herself to be trapped alone with a man

Starting point is 02:42:25 thus the presence of aubrey their son became incongruous and aubri himself helped this illusion he was a young man who looked incongruous he seemed like a hoax or at least a caricature he had enormous feet and ungainly legs large hands and pipe-stem arms hips like a woman and a face capriciously modelled out of soft putty his ugliness by itself would have been whimsical his protruding eyes long-pointed nose uneven cheeks and bulbous chin hinted at something waggish but aubrey had triumphed over his physical self he had with the air of a pair of large glasses from which dangled a black silk cord and by holding his head thrown back as if there were a crook in his neck acquired an air of dignity it was his habit to glower with dignity to stare with dignity and to preserve a dignified inanimation when he was silent he was pigeon-breasted and this helped in fact his many slight deformities seemed all to contribute somewhat toward making him a man of inspiring dignity people had little use for mr gilchrist his father he was of course wealthy but not wealthy enough to earn the regard of the poor they discussed him saying he's not so simple as he pretends he is any man who's made a pile like old gilchrist in the furniture business has a pretty smart head and they added that they wouldn't be surprised if something eventually were found out about old man gilchrist he had a past of this people were convinced

Starting point is 02:44:22 it was his wife's position and the fear of her personality that protected mr gilchrist from the downright attacks of rumor any man who pretended to be as kindly as mr gilchrist and who talked so tolerantly about everybody and everything was you could bank on it a sly rogue afraid to say what he thought because he himself was guilty of worse sins than those under discussion mr gilchrist by seeming above the social agitation surrounding him came to appear as one who looked down tolerantly upon inferiors and this annoyed people who was mr gilchrist and what had he done that he should be giving himself airs of course there was arbery and-aubrey was aloof and dignified but that was to be expected of a man who worked with his brain all the time, inventing plots and characters, his friends explained. In fact, Aubrey's silences thrilled them even more than his talk. They felt, when he sat silent, that they were witnessing the birth in his head of some great idea which they would later read in a book.

Starting point is 02:45:42 Aubrey was a man of superior qualities, and to bask in the presence of a superior was to partake of his superiority. Aubrey's superiority consisted, so far as Aubrey was concerned, of wearing the proper kind of eyeglasses, keeping his neck stiff, refraining from giving utterance to all the assinities which crowded his tongue, and writing romances containing heroes,

Starting point is 02:46:09 with whom a half-million women readers had imaginary affairs every night, and heroines whom another half-million men, ravished in their dreams. For Aubrey was a celebrated popular fiction writer. To conceal the horrible reasons which made for the celebrity of Aubrey's fiction, the army of literary morons who succumbed to its influence grew louder and louder in their protestations that Aubrey was a great moral writer.

Starting point is 02:46:40 They pointed out that here was a man whose heroines were pure, whose heroes were noble and virtuous, neglecting to add that these were the only kind of phantoms which could penetrate the guard of their own Puritanism and stir the erotic impulses beneath. Aubrey's superiority was, for the most part, a state of mind that existed among the people who knew him, or had heard of him, or read of him. And this attitude toward him became part of Aubrey. He adopted it as the major side of his character, and lived chiefly in the opinions of others. His introspection consisted of reading press notices about himself and thinking of what other people thought of him. Thus, to understand Aubrey, it was necessary to go outside him and to

Starting point is 02:47:34 investigate this external state of mind, the ready-made robes of purple in which his little thoughts strutted through the day. The people in whose acclaim Aubrey robed himself were varied and many, but they inhabited an identical psychological stratum. They believed firmly that all artists and writers were poor, starving, unhappy creatures. This belief was borne out in their minds by history, such history as they permitted themselves to know. History was continually telling of geniuses who died in garrets of great minds that could not make enough money to feed or clothe their bodies. In fact, one of the shrewdest ways to tell whether a man was a genius, that is, had been a genius, was to determine whether he had been neglected during his life and died of malnutrition and disappointment.

Starting point is 02:48:34 The people who acclaimed Arbery found a compensation in this. They liked to assure themselves that geniuses starved to death. This compensated them for the fact that they themselves were not geniuses. It made them feel that it was actually a vital misfortune to be gifted, since being gifted meant to suffer the neglect of one's fellows and the pangs of hunger. But the knowledge that genius was neglected and hungry in no way inspired them to remedy the situation by recognition, its presence and feeding it. To the contrary, they were determined to see that it remained

Starting point is 02:49:15 neglected and hungry. The idea of struggling long-haired poets dressed in rags pleased them. The idea of long-haired painters living on crumbs in attics gave them peculiar satisfaction. Geniuses were people different from themselves. They believed in different things and pretended to be excited by different emotions and lived different lives. And the people who acclaimed Aubrey were pleased to know that there was a penalty attached to being different from themselves, and they were interested in seeing that this penalty was not removed. By penalizing the different ones, whom they sensed as superiors, they increased the value of their own inferiorities. Yet they acclaimed Aubrey, and there was no malice.

Starting point is 02:50:08 in their acclaim. This was a phenomenon that had once startled Aubrey. Long ago, when he had first started to write, his family's friends had said, Poor boy, he'll starve to death. There's no money in being an author, and you lead a terrible life. But Aubrey had gone ahead and remained an author. He had written, at the beginning, rather biting if sophomoric things, inspired by the the malice he sensed toward his profession. But the inspiration had not been sufficiently strong to handicap him. When success had come, and his name was emerging, the people who knew him, and who had talked maliciously about his trying to be an author were the first to acclaim him. This thing had confused, Aubrey. He had felt that the public was a curious institution,

Starting point is 02:51:04 and he had, for a few months, wondered about it. people sneered at struggling riders and referred with withering humor to art as all bunk and indignantly denounced its immorality then when one put oneself over despite their sneers they turned around and congratulated one as if one had done something of which they heartily approved it was as if they tried to make up for their previous attitude and for a few months obri cherished a cynical image of the public it was a great bully that spat and snarled a genius refusing to recognize it and making it a laughing-stock whenever it could but as soon as genius came through this same bully of a public turned around and prostrated itself and worshipped blindly at its feet then aubrey had spent the few months wondering why this was so but he had become too busy to do much thinking his publishers were demanding more work so he let other matters drop his curiosity had carried him to the brink of an idea and he had somewhat impatiently turned his back on it he had felt that to think as he was thinking about people who were praising him and buying his books was to play the part of an ungrateful cad the idea that had come dangerously close to aubrey's consciousness was the curious notion that people resented acclaiming anybody like themselves

Starting point is 02:52:47 the lucky ones who secured their hurrah became in their eyes no longer normal humans but superpersons about whom they were prepared to believe all manner of mythical granders the more remarkable and more superior people could make out their heroes to be the less humility they felt in worshipping them and since their heroes were creatures in whom they recognized a glorification of their own virtues the more self-flattering it was to increase this glorification they were able to worship themselves with abandon in the splendors they attributed to their social superiors thus when they started they went the limit heaping honors and honors upon a man until he became a glittering godlike person the country at the time of aubrey's ascent was full of such glittering godlike creatures whose names were continually in people's mouths and in their newspapers the instinct of inferiority demanding as always an outlet in the invention of gods had found a tireless mediums for this hocus pocus in the press. Great reputations were continually springing up. The newspapers, like the half-synical, half-superstitious priests of the totem era,

Starting point is 02:54:13 busying themselves with creating towering effigies in clay and smearing them with vermilion paints. These gods whom the people busily erected, and before whom they busily prostrated themselves, were, as always, the awesome deities. created in their own image. There had been a crisis in Aubrey's life when he was caught between a desire to be himself

Starting point is 02:54:38 and the desire to be a great clay figure with mysterious totems splashed over it. To be himself, he had only to write as he vaguely thought he wanted to write. And to be one of the great figures, he had merely to write what he definitely knew would win him the respect of others. The decision, however, had been taken out of his hands.

Starting point is 02:55:03 Aubrey's talent had not been of the sort that has, for its parents, a hatred of society and a derision of its surfaces. He had, indeed, fancied himself for a short time as desiring to adventure among the doubts and iconoclasms which distinguished the literature he had encountered during his college days. But the fancy had proved no more than an ego. perversion of the true impulse in him. This, it soon developed, was a desire to impress himself upon people as their superior, not their antithesis.

Starting point is 02:55:40 As a result, he fell to writing books, which carefully avoided the revolt which the dubious spectacle of manners and morality had stirred in him. He concentrated upon crystallizing his daydreams. He turned out tales of deftly virtuous Cinderella. who provokingly withheld their kisses for 300 pages, of debonair galahads with hearts of gold, who, utilizing the current platitudes as an armor and a weapon, emerged in grandiose triumphs

Starting point is 02:56:13 with the stubborn virgins thawing deliriously around their necks. Aubrey's tales were popular at once. There were the technically arranged versions of the rigamarole of secret make-believes that went on in his own. as well as other people's heads. People read them and quivered with delight. They were tales which, like their own daydreams, served as an antidote for the puny, unimpressive realities of their lives. Also, they were moral, high-minded tales, and thus they served as a vindication of the codes, fears,

Starting point is 02:56:51 taboos, which contributed the puniness to the realities of their lives. his success increased rapidly as he abandoned altogether the pretense of plumbing souls and gave himself wholeheartedly to the creative pleasantries of plumbing the soap bubble worlds in whose iridescence people found their compensations at twenty nine aubrey was becoming one of the glittering godlike personages in whose worship the public finds outlet for its inferiority mania and simultaneous concealment therefrom he had realized this in time and without conscious effort adjusted himself toward the perfections demanded of a personage worthy of receiving the masochistic and self-enobling salute of the mob these perfections were simply and easily achieved one had only to acquiesce to accept the acclaim of outsiders as a part of one's self and to live one's inner life in a rosyot contemplation of this acclaim. One had only to remember one's public, as he put it himself, and not to disappoint them or antagonize them. In his own family he was regarded with awe. His father always felt bewildered when he spoke to him, and even Mrs. Gilchrist revealed a slightly human nervousness

Starting point is 02:58:20 in her contacts with her son. Concerning Mrs. Gilchrist, there was not much to be said, even by such incipient iconoclasts as mrs bazin she was too defined in exterior one was conscious in her presence not so much of a woman as of an invincible battle-front of ideas nobody had ever heard mrs gilchrist give expression to anything which could remotely be identified as an idea nevertheless she was a battle-front she was a woman with an intimidating coldness of manner this manner spoke without words of an incorruptible intolerance toward all deviations from her code backsliders moral culprits unmannerly persons and in fact every one not actively under her domination were to mrs gilchrist suspect she managed to give the impression that people whom she did not know were creatures whose virtues as well as social prestige were matters of sinister doubt they were outside the pale the secret of her domination was a psychological phenomenon that eluded her antagonists and so left them powerless to combat it the strength mrs gilchrist felt within her was the product of a complete repression she had managed since her youth to shut herself successfully within the narrow limits of her consciousness successfully divorcing all her thoughts desires and actions from any dictates of an inner self

Starting point is 03:00:06 she had formed an ideal basing it upon her social ambitions and her childish prejudices of good and bad desirable and undesirable and she had been able to perfect this idea her mind was a tiny fortress against which her own emotions, and hence the emotions of others, battled in vain. It could neither think nor understand, and this was its strength. The doubts which thinking sometimes stirred in the minds of her antagonists, the knowledge of secret impulses and obscene imaginings which they were only able imperfectly to keep from themselves, and which made it possible, for them to appreciate dimly the sinners and iconoclasts in the world such knowledge never intruded upon mrs gilchrist her indignation toward backsliders and moral culprits was not a projected censure of similar weakness in herself there were no windows in the tiny fortress in which she lived protected from all human disturbances of her spirit she spent her days closeted within her

Starting point is 03:01:20 her little fortress in grim contemplation of her rectitude. Friendship was impossible to her. She was, however, a duchy, a corporation in which one could buy stock. By subscribing unquestionably to her rectitude, admitting its existence publicly and succumbing to its strength, one earned the dividends of her social approval. One became to her a very nice person in whose submission she grudgingly saw, as in an imperfect mirror, the image of her own virtues. Curiously enough, Mrs. Gilchrist was renowned for her activity as a philanthropist and a charity worker. Her social prestige, aside from her strength of character, was based upon this.

Starting point is 03:02:12 She was a perennial patroness, a member of hustler, a member of hustler, hospital boards, a chairman of bazaars, special matinees, charity balls, and money-raising campaigns. All these activities were in the interest of the poor. The money raised by them went toward bringing comfort to creatures whose moral obliquity and human weaknesses, Mrs. Gilchrist authentically despised. Yet she was indefatigable in her work, darting in her unvarying black dress from meeting to meeting, bristling with magnificent plans for further philanthropies. Her husband occasionally wondered.

Starting point is 03:02:56 He was unable to reconcile the coldness he knew in his wife with the character of her labors. At times he dimly felt that it was her way of saying something, perhaps a way of showing a hidden warmth toward people. But in Mrs. Gilchrist thought there was no such explanation, to have admitted to herself a concern for the creatures in whose behalf she devoted her energies would have been to open a door in the tiny fortress or at least to create a loophole out of which she might look with sympathy upon the confusions and torments of her fellows her inner humanism divorced from the narrow limits of her consciousness was finding its outlet as her husband suspected in her work but during this work never for a moment did mrs gilchrist think of the creature she was benefiting she had rationalized her activities and made them a part of the emotionless content of her mind all relation between the things she did and the people she did

Starting point is 03:04:04 them for, was divorced in her thought. In bazaars she superintended, in balls, fates, campaigns, auctions she energized with her presence, she saw only bazaars, ball, ftes, campaigns, and auctions. She worked for their success with an invulnerable preoccupation in the details which went to make them socially proper and financially triumphant. The altruism was a lot of. The altruism of her work inspired no altruism in her. She did not allow herself to sympathize with the weakness and poverty she was aiding, or even to contemplate them for an instant. Yet her work accomplished, the charity of success, she experienced the stern elation of having done good. This elation was inspired in no way by the thought of the solace she had brought to others. It was entirely

Starting point is 03:05:04 egoistic, a moment in which her rectitude congratulated itself upon its rectitude. End of Chapter 6. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 7 of Gargoyles This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 7

Starting point is 03:05:41 Fanny Bazine smiled timidly at Aubrey. he was paying little attention to her he was listening to judge smith airing his views on the annexation of the philippines the judge was forcibly declaring that the thing was essential and that no gentleman with his country's future at heart could possibly believe otherwise aubrey to the judge's secret discomfiture somehow managed to convey an assent to these views but an assent based on superior motives what these motives were judge smith was unable to fathom aubrey when it came his turn to expound further irritated the judge by revealing them he aubrey was for the annexation of the philippines but only because he was convinced such an annexation would be of supreme benefit to the natives of the islands. Mrs. Gilchrist nodded sternly in agreement with her son. The rest of the company listening with vacuous attentiveness waited for the debaters to continue talking for them.

Starting point is 03:06:53 Bazine, who had been silent, came to the judge's rescue. He explained that the judge and Aubrey meant practically the same thing, but that they had chosen different ways to explain. express themselves. Judge Smith, Bizzine smiled, sees in the annexation something which will benefit his country. He knows as well as any of us that it will not benefit it financially. It will be a source of expenditure and strife. Then how will it benefit us?

Starting point is 03:07:26 Because it will give us an opportunity to aid a pack of uncivilized and benighted heathen and despite them to bring peace and prosperity to their own. country, not ours, which is exactly what you mean, Aubrey. The judge beamed approval, and Aubrey contented himself with a stare of dignity. He did not relish psychological interpretations of his words. As an author, he felt annoyed. But Bazine continued to talk undeterred by his stare. He disliked, Aubrey, not so much as Doris.

Starting point is 03:08:04 and in a somewhat different way. Further, the presence of Henrietta was a curious inspiration. The girl's wide-eyed tenderness had irritated and frightened him, after the incident in the kitchen when they had gone searching for the Thingamabob. Now, he had no interest in the Philippine controversy, but he had entered the discussion in order to rid himself of the uncomfortable memory the episode with Henrietta had left him. As he talked, the memory played hide-and-seek in his words.

Starting point is 03:08:40 She thinks I'm going to marry her, but she's engaged to him. She's crazy. What the hell did I do it for? Damn it! Damn it! Instinctively, he took the judge's part, as if he must establish himself firmly in the father's good graces in order to make premature amends for the jolting of his daughter. The position he had taken pleased him

Starting point is 03:09:07 because it also involved in opposition to Aubrey. Fanny continued to smile at the novelist. Keegan bored her. They had been walking together and she had lost interest in the sensual game she had been playing with him. Alone, she might have tried to repeat the experience of the morning with Keegan, but her physical curiosity partially gratified for the moment by the surreptitious excitement she had derived from him her interest transferred itself to aubrey the man amused and impressed her

Starting point is 03:09:44 her thought separated him into two people she resented his persistent dignity her perceptions sharpened by the practical sensuality of her nature saw through the little ruses by which abry converted his slight deformities into a dignified hole. As she listened to him, she said to herself, he thinks it's smart to wear a ribbon on his glasses. He sticks his chest out. He's got skinny arms. He looks funny. After a half hour, she lost her resentment,

Starting point is 03:10:22 and the thing that it inspired it came to amuse her. She could see through his funny manner, so it didn't anger her. But although now she smiled with amusement at the man's impressiveness, a feeling of awe penetrated her. Aubrey was a great man. People spoke his name everywhere.

Starting point is 03:10:44 He was known. A delicious tremble passed through her. She was careful not to translate it into words. Had she inspected the tremble and its causes, it would have outraged her. She was content always to accept her emotions blindly, for fear of having to forego them if she knew their causes. She kept herself intact in her own mind as a good girl,

Starting point is 03:11:12 not by belligerently repressing her impulses, but by enjoying them secretly outside her mind. She had thought of Aubrey as a great man, and with it had come the inner impulse to be embraced, passionately by him. Not because he was Aubrey, but because he was the famous Aubrey Gilchrist, whose name was known. To be embraced by a famous man would be like being embraced somehow by all the people who knew his name. She would be able to think, while satisfying her desire, everybody knows him. They know all about him. It's almost as if they knew he was doing this.

Starting point is 03:11:57 I was doing this. Then, too, there would be a feeling of intense secrecy about it, a sort of blasphemous secrecy. When an ordinary man kissed her, that was, of course, a secret. But if a famous man should kiss her, a man like Aubrey, that would be a super secret, a violation of something remarkable. It would be a thing concealed, not merely from her family and from the vague circle of friends who might be interested,

Starting point is 03:12:29 but from millions of people who knew Aubrey and who would be tremendously interested in everything he did. She would be giving herself to a public figure, and yet the thing she was doing would be marvelously concealed from the public, and so she would be able to enjoy the thrill of demonstromania, of being taken by someone who was not an individual like Keegan, but a man who was part of other people, people's minds and at the same time she would be able to enjoy the thrill of defiant intimacy the knowledge that the people in whose minds the name aubrey gilchrist was alive would be ignorant of what she was doing to the man they admired

Starting point is 03:13:13 all this would be a sharpening of pleasure by the consciousness of wholesale deceit wholesale intimacy these intuitions whose articulation would have been entirely unintelligible to Fanny, sent the delicious tremble through her body. Immediately the two separate Aubrey's of her mind focused into one, and she lost both her amusement and her awe of him. She sat regarding him with a timid smile designed to arouse his curiosity. As yet he had ignored her, his eyes seeking out Henrietta when the annexation debate waned. bazin had diverted the talk into literary channels by inquiring apropos of nothing whether anyone had read a book by a man named meredith he had found it in doris's room one evening and glanced through it seeking now for further material with which to discomfit aubrey he had remembered the volume he took it for granted that since his sister doris had been reading it the book was a very worth-while book the kind he cared nothing about reading himself this did not interfere with his utilizing an exposition of its merits as a weapon against aubrey

Starting point is 03:14:35 i was quite surprised he explained doris listened with a frown she was certain her brother had not read the book and the knowledge he was lying aggravated her she knew he lied continually but was indifferent but to have him lie about something she admired even in its defence made her uncomfortable as if he were trying to establish false claims upon her regard the book is altogether unlike most books he went on generalizing carefully his mind totally ignorant of the subject he was discussing was shrewdly inventing a book diametrically opposite in style and content to the book's aubri wrote by praising such a book he would manage without reference to his antagonist to disparage his entire literary output he was not clear in his mind why aubrey had become an antagonist the memory reiterating itself behind his words she thinks i'm going to marry her damn it was mysteriously finding outlet in an indignation neither against himself nor henrietta but against the unsuspecting aubrey fanny listened to the new conversation but meredith was soon dropped the sight of mrs gilchrist grimly poised opposite her mother became a part of the lure aubrey exercised over her he was the son of this hard-faced domineering woman to do something with him that was intimate would be a deliciously concealed violation of the mother's proprietor Fanny had always been intimidated by Mrs. Gilchrist's propriety.

Starting point is 03:16:32 Embracing her son would be a sort of revenge. Without wasting time looking for reasons, Fanny felt Aubrey as an attraction. Her attitude toward him grew more intimate. She did not try to enter the talk, but adjusted herself in the chair, placing her body so that the curve of her hip and leg were effectively visible to Aubrey. And while the others talked, she assured herself of the plausibility of her ambitions. Aubrey was a great man, and very famous and distinguished. But he was, after all, entirely human.

Starting point is 03:17:14 He had written books, and Fanny fell to thinking about them, about the descriptions of love-making which crowded the pages of his books. Aubrey was famous and therefore aloof. But the things that had made him famous, the love passages in his books, were not intimidating. She remembered them with gratitude. They were love descriptions, and Aubrey had written them. Love passages were, in fact, all that Fanny usually remembered of her reading.

Starting point is 03:17:47 reading. Plots and characters escaped her. After she had closed a book, there remained in her mind merely the scenes in which men had placed their arms around women and whispered, after a succession of exciting adjectives, "'I love you!' This was due to the manner in which Fanny read. As a girl, she had plowed laboriously through a set of Shakespeare in quest of obscene passages. Her girl's eyes would skip with irritation the speeches that seemed to her extraneous until, caught by some nasty word, she would become eagerly interested and carefully digest the sentences preceding and following it. At fourteen, she had discovered that the dictionary, stuck away in a dusty corner of the bookcase, was filled with many such words. Whenever occasion permitted, she

Starting point is 03:18:45 opened the big volume and poured intently over its contents, digesting with excitement the definitions of what she called to herself the nasty words. The result of this curious reading technique had gradually shown itself as she matured. Literature became to her a secretly immoral and indecent thing. She would blush when people mention Shakespeare or any of the books in her. which she had eagerly browsed. Observing that her blushes gave people an impression of her sensitive chastity, she developed a habit of seeming offended at the mention of any volume she suspected of containing such words and passages as she was continually searching for in secret.

Starting point is 03:19:35 She would say, Oh, I don't like that kind of a book. I don't think people should write like that, about such things. There are so many nice things to write about, I don't see why people must write about the others. Delivering herself on these sentiments on all occasions, she continued her furtive hunt for books about such things. One red-letter evening, she stumbled upon a pamphlet in her brother's room describing the horrors of venereal diseases, and outlining with verbal and pictorial illustrations, the ravages wrought by the diseased germs. She had devoured the information greedily,

Starting point is 03:20:19 her sensuality editing the well-intentioned brochure into a mass of erotic revelations. Aubrey's books, although a bit too innocuous to exhilarate her as the pamphlet had done, or even the dictionary, properly read, was able to do, contained innumerable passages she remembered. She treated his writing as she did all writing, skimming hastily over irrelevant matters, such as dialogues between men, discussions of abstract problems, mother and child scenes, and coming to a pause only at the portions which began with some such sentence as, he looked at her with burning eyes, or she felt nervous because at last she was alone with him, or, he tried to to draw her to him, but she resisted, her virtue outraged by the light in his eyes.

Starting point is 03:21:15 She recalled these passages now as the literary discussion grew warmer. The knowledge that Aubrey had written them served to humanize him and remove his aloofness in her eyes. He was a famous man. On the other hand, he was famous because he wrote such things as, she yielded with a happy sigh to the manly embrace. Aubrey felt irritated with Bazine. He stood up and seemingly without intention walked to a vacant chair next to Fanny.

Starting point is 03:21:49 The conversation had been taken up by Mrs. Gilchrist, who was explaining the real purpose of her visit. "'We are giving a fet on Mrs. Channing's lawn,' she was saying, and I would very much like you to be one of the members of the committee on printing. Mrs. Bazine felt an elation at the words. She had read about the Channing-Lon Fet, an affair of social magnificence designed to raise funds for the associated charities. Great social names were involved.

Starting point is 03:22:23 Mrs. Bazine's heart trembled gratefully. Oh, thank you, she said, her voice taking, on a formal, artificial tone. Mrs. Gilchrist nodded. The tone pleased her. She could count on the Bazine woman among the select who showed their gratitude openly at the largesse of her favor.

Starting point is 03:22:46 She would, in fact, deign to stay for supper as a reward. Mrs. Bazine, urging her to remain for the light Sunday evening meal, felt indignant with herself. She would have preferred to refuse the commuter, middy on printing. Even as she accepted and experienced the elation, her thought bristled with revolt. "'The old fool! The old fool!' repeated itself with annoying clarity in her mind. She detested Mrs. Gilchrist. Since her husband's death, Mrs. Bazine had outgrown the snobbery which had inspired her during her life to pour over the society columns.

Starting point is 03:23:31 but a habit had been established, the habit of a desire to become a member of the closely knit organization known as society. And now she was apparently powerless to overcome this desire, which no longer animated her, but yet intruded out of the past. She looked down upon herself for the elation over becoming a member of a printing committee for a social charity fete. I hate it. I just hate it.

Starting point is 03:24:00 she would murmur for days at a time but the elation would persist a thing beyond the control of her improved outlook upon life she was aware also of the simple process by which she transferred her self-indictment into a detestation of mrs gilchrist mrs gilchrist was the one who appealed to what mrs beseen had grown to regard as her smaller nature and her anger toward the imperturbable dowager was the anger of a virtuous woman toward one whose temptations she was unable to resist you've been rather silent aubrey smiled patronizingly at fanny she nodded oh i've been so interested in what you've been saying she answered she noticed with the feeling of sisterly gratitude that bazin had occupied himself with henrietta aubrey caught the direction of her glance and frowned he had developed a definite dislike of bazin during the afternoon kegan listening uncomfortably to the judge who was ignoring him in his talk but whose audience kegan felt it a social necessity to remain tried vainly to capture fanny's eyes she had apparently forgotten his existence but now as aubrey seated himself at her side she smiled intimately in the direction of the confused keegan oh hugh she said loud enough for him to hear The sound of his name from the girl gave Keegan an inexplicable sensation.

Starting point is 03:25:45 He felt himself break into happy smiles, and the anxiety that had been growing in his heart seemed abruptly to have vanished under her voice. He came to her side and stood looking timidly at her. The conviction came over Fanny that Keegan was in love. She felt pleased, and her heart warmed toward him. but her interests remained exclusively preoccupied with the novelist i was just going out to the kitchen and wondered if you wanted to help cut sandwiches she smiled at kegan sure he answered i'm an excellent cook myself aubrey unbent gravely fanny stood up and started toward the hall the two men hesitated and then followed her

Starting point is 03:26:37 bazin frowning slightly toward the door listened to her voice chattering to cover the embarrassed silence of the two men she had bagged don't you want to go out there and help he turned to henrietta she shook her head kegan felt himself being slowly transported his penitence had faded into less satisfactory emotions toward the middle of the day a gloom had come over him and his heart had felt weighted he had at first identified this state of mind as a ghastly premonition of disease as a result of last night's debauch and thought that the depression he felt was his nervous system or something warning him of this fact the depression lifted he sat around the bazin home listening to the chatter of the arriving guests and feeling out of place he felt that he was wishing for something but couldn't make out what it was his heart hurt his head felt heavy there were aches in him and a feeling of listlessness more he couldn't sit still the room seemed a suffocating place he was unhappy happy. Several hours later, it dawned on him with a shock that he was in love with Fanny. The sudden explanation frightened him. He attempted to deny it to himself. The struggle endured a half hour. He surrendered. When he looked at Fanny again, she had undergone a complete change. There was a startling intimacy in her features. Her contours were stamped with an appeal he had never observed before in a woman. The rest of the company sat behind a thin film of politeness and formality, but Fanny sat with him outside this film. The others in the room were

Starting point is 03:28:41 blurred as if half hidden. Fanny was distinct. A light seemed to beat upon her. He looked in amazement. A few hours ago he had noticed nothing. Now he had noticed nothing. Now he was distinct. He He noticed everything, her dress, her hands, her hair, her eyes, her ankles. He was frightened because it seemed as if someone had invaded the secret world in which he alone lived. He remembered frightenedly that he had lain with his head in her lap, that he had embraced her. There had been something curious about the embrace, but he was unable to identify it. she felt sorry for me that's all he thought and at once all hope ebbed out of him yet he continued to look at her and watch her grow more familiar so familiar that her image seemed to have come into his heart where he could feel it choking him a few minutes after entering the kitchen he grew hopeful he found himself in the position of an intimate at least by comparison

Starting point is 03:29:53 she was paying no attention to aubrey she laughed at his kegan's clumsiness chided him good-naturedly she held his hand and his heart beating wildly directed him in slicing the bread when he was drawing the water from the sink faucet she leaned over resting her chin in his shoulder and effected a humorous concern he felt her body press warmly against him and almost dropped the cut-glass pitcher he was holding he was being transported out of the corner of his eye he watched the novelist a sorry fellow with gawky feet and a clumsy-looking face kegan vaguely pitied him as he stood around doing his best to horn in on the intimacy between fanny and himself he knew how the novelist felt it seemed to kegan even that it was he kegan feeling that way and that the carefully concealed embarrassment the futile chagrin and lameness were his own emotions and not aubrey gilchrist's in an effort to put the defeated rival at his ease so kegan regarded him he tried magnanimously to include him in the little by-play between himself and Fanny. Here, you try your hand at this, he offered,

Starting point is 03:31:24 handing Aubrey the knife. Fanny pouted. Huh, just as I was teaching you the art of bread-cutting, you run away from school, she complained. Kegan resumed his operations on the bread, a satisfied warmth in his heart. For her hand had returned to its position, and she was again,

Starting point is 03:31:48 going through the idiotic pretense of teaching him how to move a knife. He was being transported. His vacuous face had taken on a vivacity. He was fearful of presuming, of doing something wrong, and he made no effort to caress her. No effort was necessary, for somehow, despite his carefully edited behavior, their fingers were always touching,

Starting point is 03:32:16 their bodies coming together. Still, he was afraid to think that Fanny had fallen in love with him. He was even afraid that Aubrey would go away and leave them alone in the kitchen. If they were alone, he would have to try to kiss her, or something, and she would laugh and then say indignantly, You idiot, I was just playing. I see now that you think all women are like those you've told me about. He would rather that Aubrey remained and that everything continued as it was.

Starting point is 03:32:52 The sandwiches were piling up on the large platters. Here, Fanny cried, holding one of them up for him to bite. He looked apologetically at Aubrey, as if asking to be forgiven for this proof of her superior regard, and with a blush ate from her fingers. Fanny suddenly let go the sandwich, and as it dropped to the floor, patted him tenderly on his cheek and laughed. "'Ah, big man hungry!' she whispered. He turned to place the fallen pieces of bread in the sink.

Starting point is 03:33:29 His hand brushed hers, and he felt her fingers close firmly around his palm with a squeeze. He half-shut his eyes at the shock that filled his heart. Fanny's eyes, however, ignored him. She was engaged in watching Aubrey, for whose benefit the entire scene was being staged. Her instinct had supplied her with the mode of attack. She would arouse desire in the novelist by showing herself desired, although by another man. A desired woman was an irritant.

Starting point is 03:34:08 It aroused illogical jealousy. The icebox was in the back hallway. the cream and things are in here fanny exclaimed kegan followed her out of the kitchen into the rear vestibule she had squeezed his hand before starting and thrown him a glance as she passed through the doorway he felt embarrassed for aubrey and was in the point of inviting him to share the intimacy of the small vestibule but fanny interrupted him oh hugh she called softly will you chop some ice please for the water she handed him the ice-pick and laughed nervously the door was half open and kegan caught a glimpse of the novelist pretending a vast interest in the arrangement of the sandwiches on the plates what's the matter hugh you seem so-so funny fanny whispered close to him his heart contracted he was afraid if he dared he would put his arms around her but after all the things he had confessed to her in their walk a longing to weep almost brought tears out of his eyes he stood with his mouth open and stared as in a dream at a blurred vision fanny he muttered i'm sorry about last night

Starting point is 03:35:41 she whispered. He nodded. But Huey, you said you wouldn't ever again. He felt despair. If I only hadn't, I would, he stopped. Would what, Hewie? Fear halted him definitely. He could go no further. A misery clouded his thought.

Starting point is 03:36:08 He felt her hand touching his arm. you mustn't feel sorry hugh please promise me you won't feel sorry the sweetness of her voice overpowered him and his eyes grew wet he tried to talk but was ashamed of the quiver he felt in his throat fanny pressed lightly against him he stood with his head reeling and his heart dancing crazily as her arm circled his neck her face was raised to his just one hughy please don't forget please hurry he heard her words but they conveyed no meaning he loved her he loved her he had never been happy like this he couldn't tell her now the ice-box something was in the way but sometime he would tell her-her his arms and body felt alive oh he thought fanny fanny then he heard himself repeating the thought aloud he was saying in a voice he hardly recognized oh fanny fanny he kissed her lips for a moment fanny returned his kiss passionately her arms clutched him tightly she felt a close she felt a close curious lift in her heart, a thing she had never experienced before. It made her almost close her

Starting point is 03:37:47 eyes, but she kept them open, watching furtively over Keegan's shoulder, the figure of Aubrey. Aubrey had remained bent over the plates of sandwiches. Despite the lift in her heart, this annoyed her. She wanted Aubrey's attention. Oh, she sighed aloud. aubrey heard he straightened and for a moment stared at the tableau of the lovers fanny watching him behind kegan's kiss saw his face grow red Then she lowered her eyes and abandoned herself to the sensation of Keegan's arms. But the sensations faded. An interest seems to have gone out of the situation. She pushed Keegan gently away and looked into the kitchen.

Starting point is 03:38:41 Aubrey was gone. Oh, she whispered, Keegan looked at her dizzily. He saw. Who? abry gilchrist saw you her face flushed did he kegan leaned against the ice-box he felt weak i'm sure he did fanny insisted and elated note in her voice i'm just positive he couldn't have seen much if he did from where he was standing keegan murmured i don't care anyway fanny smiled kegan felt a thrill at the words she loved him and didn't care who knew neither do i he agreed he felt glad they had been seen it made him blush inside but he was glad oh what do we care fanny cried if the old stick in the mud did see kegan reached

Starting point is 03:39:50 his hands to her, but she eluded him and darted into the kitchen. Hurry, chop the ice, she called. She was confused. For a moment she had been surprised by an emotion, a curious, unsensual desire for the awkward Keegan. She had felt her heart yield to his embrace, as she usually felt her body do. But the whole thing had been for Aubrey's benefit.

Starting point is 03:40:19 It had started with an intention of making Aubrey jealous by flirting with Keegan. And when Aubrey had refused to show any signs of jealousy, she had carried the flirtation further until it had seemed logical to kiss and embrace Keegan as a part of her original ambition to stir Aubrey. But she had been stirred herself by the man's kiss. Yet now that Aubrey was gone, she had lost her own. all interest in Hugh. She wanted to hurry back where the novelist was. She glanced apprehensively toward the door. Doris was standing looking at her. What's the matter, Dory? Mr. Ramsey has

Starting point is 03:41:06 come. Mother said to set another place. Good heavens, what a houseful. Doris nodded. Kagan was standing in the center of the room, smiling inanely at the sink. I'll help you, said Doris. End of Chapter 7. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 8 of Gargoyles. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline.

Starting point is 03:41:53 Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 8. Mrs. Bazine was embarrassed by the arrival of her friend, Tom Ramsey. He had been a friend of her husband, and a rumor had become current that he was now courting her. She denied this with indignation. To herself, she admitted she liked to be alone with him. He was a sour-minded man with a liver-red face, a patrician nose, and the look of a man of importance. But he was too thin and too short to live up.

Starting point is 03:42:30 to this look? In the presence of others, he usually felt into a silence, unless one of the two or three subjects in which he felt himself an authority came up. These subjects were things that had to do with advertising, effective copy, effective display, prices, results. Mr. Ramsey was in the advertising business. Mrs. Bazine's embarrassment at his arrival was caused by her sympathy. for the man and her resentment of his weakness. She knew exactly what would happen. Tom Ramsey would sit through the evening, scrupulously polite to everyone,

Starting point is 03:43:12 saying, yes, yes, quite right. Oh, of course. That's absolutely right. Indeed, I agree with you. For the first few minutes he would impress everyone as a man of character and intelligence, but gradually this impression would fade, and people would stop talking to him, and eventually ignore him altogether in the conversation.

Starting point is 03:43:38 Why this happened, Mrs. Bazine could never determine. But it did, and it always hurt her. Mr. Ramsey, smiling exuberantly through the introduction, his thin body alive in the slightly overheated room, would, in an hour become Mr. Ramsey, sitting glassy-eyed and polite in a corner, his liver-red face holding with difficulty a grimace of enthusiastic attentiveness. He would make sporadic starts trying to recover something. When the talk grew boisterous and everyone was making puns and delivering himself of bouncing sarcasms, Ramsey would try to become part of the scene in a way that always startled the

Starting point is 03:44:24 company. He would come to life with mysterious suddenness and hurl a jimps. into the common pot. His manner, however, focused attention on himself rather than his words. In back of the drollery he offered would be a desperation, in fact, sometimes a sense of fury. People would stare at him for an instant thinking, what an odd, impossible man. And in their contemplation, forget to laugh at his remark, forget even to answer it. and he would be left stranded in a silence a conversational castaway a moment later he would collapse sit glowering in his chair looking angrily at the carpet this was painful to mrs bazin since she had grown to understand him when they were alone ramsay became a different man he talked to her usually about people he had met in her house at such times he was master of caricature

Starting point is 03:45:32 their absurdities pompousness banalities hypocrisies took grotesque outline in his words his method was unvarying it was based upon a crude vicious scepticism inspired in turn by a fanatic resentment of success in others he seemed determined always to prove to his own and her satisfaction that despite their pretensions people were no more successful than he his nature seemed unable to tolerate the thought of superiors at the same time people he encountered particularly in the same time people he encountered particularly in the the Bazine home, managed always to override him, to reduce him to silence, to deflate him. He would retire into himself, protesting viciously at the injustice of this phenomenon, and while he sat in silence, he would seek to wipe out the consciousness of his own inferiority by attacking with contempt the people around him. He would sit, belittling and ridiculing the company to himself until he had hypnotized himself with a conviction of their general worthlessness

Starting point is 03:46:47 and inferiority. Bolstered up by this treacherous conviction, he would come suddenly to life with a grotesque sense of magnitude in his mind. He was a giant among pygmies, a Socrates among clowns. Who were these numbsculls and foreflushers that they thought they were better than he was? He would show them, he would step forth and, by a single gesture, a scintillant phrase, reduce them to their proper place. And the company would find itself staring for an instant at a thin, little man with a wild

Starting point is 03:47:27 look in his eyes and a snarling quiver in his voice, saying something not quite intelligible, usually an involved pun or a tardy comment on some issue under discussion. the intensity of the sullen-faced little man with the patrician nose embarrassed them for the moment not as much as it did mrs bazin whose heart would almost break at the spectacle but enough to make them feel it were best to ignore this curious mr ramsay and not let on what a fool he somehow made of himself ramsay's indignation toward people his sour scepticism of their values was his futile way of resuring himself of his own worth futile because he had no conviction of this worth when he sat denouncing in silence the talkers around him ridiculing and belittling them it was merely a less painful outlet for the contempt he had of himself he had been since his youth ridden by this inner feeling that he was a fool a weakling not quite a man it had started in his boyhood when the nickname cissy had been attached to him his high-pitched voice his thin body and his unboyish modesty had earned him the name as he grew older the fact that he did not care for girls as other youths did and that he sometimes played with them as if he were a girl himself had not escaped the keen cruel eyes of his companions

Starting point is 03:49:07 the name sis ramsay had stuck in order to convince these companions of his masculinity he had thrown himself with violence into their roughest games in high school he had sought to establish himself as a hardened sinner a drinker and a tough citizen despite his slight body he had developed into a creditable athlete more than that he had become known as a fellow who would fight at the drop of a hat his fiery temper became a byword. But all these masculine or seemingly masculine attributes were part of his effort to prove that, despite his somewhat odd voice and his equally odd indifference toward girls, he was a man. When he left high school and started in the offices of the McKay advertising company, the name Sissy had dropped from him. He had no longer to contend with the keen, cruel lies of boy companions.

Starting point is 03:50:14 Men were contempt to accept him at whatever value he chose to place on himself, as far as his character was concerned. The struggle, instead of abating, however, only increased. It removed itself from the external combat of his boyhood to an internal complication, and became the basis of the feeling of inferiority which shaped his life. This inner knowledge he cherished, that he was inferior to people, was founded on the conviction that he was impotent, or, at least nearly impotent, that he could never marry and have children like other men. His mind refused to acknowledge this fact, and thus, instead of finding

Starting point is 03:51:00 the comparatively harmless exit of regret, it permeated his entire thought with the word inferior, inferior. Ramsey kept himself desperately blind to the cause of this permeation. He concentrated on the detached word, inferior, and belabored it with untiring fury. There was another secret, one that went deeper than the hidden conviction of impotency. In the indignation which continually filled his mind, the hideous secret that lived almost within grasp of his understanding was conveniently clouded. It was the secret that his lack of vigor,

Starting point is 03:51:44 a fact in itself that he sometimes contemplated, was caused by a still deeper thing, a thing that never reached any clearer articulation than a shudder. They had called him Sissy as a boy, and he had not changed with age. He had been able to repress the impulses that sought to turn him toward men instead of women for companionship, he had repressed them, by the ruse of convincing himself he was an ascetic. It was, moreover, an attitude which could find outlet.

Starting point is 03:52:20 He could devote himself to the continual denunciation of others, developing into a sour, cynical, choleric man of fifty, a vindictive, unpleasing personality. Mrs. Bazine her guests into the dining-room. Ramsey's presence preoccupied her. She found herself watching him, as a mother might look after a sickly child. The intimacy that had grown between her and her dead husband's friend had been too gradual to trace. It had started when Mrs. Bazine had sat one evening in the midst of a company similar to this

Starting point is 03:53:00 and thought, poor man he jumps around like that and acts queerly because he's ashamed of himself he's ashamed of not being what he wants to be she did not quite understand what this meant but she felt herself suddenly close to the man after having thought it he began to seek her company alone and more and more to use her as an audience for his ruse of transferring his self-rage into a critical indignation of others. A realization of Ramsey's character had stirred a pity in her, and out of this pity she was careful not to let him see it. She went to the extreme of pretending a blindness toward his shortcomings, and of accepting him for the thing he tried to make himself out to be, a giant among pygmies. She would agree with him in his attacks upon others, second his vicious caricaturing and appear always impressed by his desperate scepticism ramsie as a result had come to regard her as the one person with whom he had ever felt at ease during his life

Starting point is 03:54:15 mrs bazin was a woman who understood him that is one who was completely deceived by him in her presence the creature he struggled unsuccessfully to become the masquerade of magnificence which his inferiority sought futilely to assume in her presence these became realities he would swagger before her deride her browbeat her and the rage which bubbled everlastingly in him would have respite his mind seemed to uncloud and his talk would grow actually clever some of his caricatures bringing an authentic laugh from her but the widow as a rule would sit listening to him, watching his swagger, her heart lacerated by the poignant things it sensed. It was as if he were a little boy dressed up in an Indian suit and emitting war whoops, and she must sit by and pretend real horror of his juvenile make-believe, as if he were someone who would drop dead with anguish in the midst of his laughter, if she were to say aloud what was in her mind.

Starting point is 03:55:25 Oh, you poor man, I'm sorry for you. I am so ashamed for you. She did not understand why, despite these things, she felt a thrill of pleasure when she found herself alone with him. Her pity for the man seemed a pleasant excitement. It gave her a sense of intimacy toward him. She admitted this to herself, but wondered about it. There had been one evening that remained confusedly in her. her mind. He had seemed unusually buoyant, she recalled, after it was over. His cleverness had actually diverted her, his caricatures of Judge Smith and Mrs. Gilchrist, and even her own son. She had felt a certain truth in the distorted descriptions he gave of her friends. Then, without warning,

Starting point is 03:56:20 he had grown violently excited. She had watched him with a fear in her heart, a woman warning to her that he was going to say something. She remembered him walking up and down the room, saying, the trouble with you, like with most people, my dear lady, is that you don't understand things. You look at things through a fog. You don't see through the pretences of people. Your brain isn't active. It's merely receptive. It doesn't question. And what's the result? His voice, had become high-pitched. You live your lives among lies. That's what you do.

Starting point is 03:57:03 Lies. Lies. You thrive on lies. Your friends are lies. Your thoughts. Everything. Take me. Now, take me.

Starting point is 03:57:14 My case. I'll tell you something you don't understand. Just by the way of proof, I'll tell you something. His voice had broken off, overcome by excitement. he was walking up and down in front of her his eyes staring wildly he was going to say something something about himself and for a moment she had sat cringing inside why had she been afraid perhaps because he had looked so wildly around him like someone trying to escape but he had grown silent and dropped exhausted into a chair she tried not to look at him because he was trembling and he had gone away ten minutes later he had kept away for two weeks and then returned and their relations had resumed as if nothing had happened her mind tingled with curiosity but a fear restrained her she somehow had not dared ask the question what were you going to tell me about yourself

Starting point is 03:58:22 but she remembered that it had seemed for a moment as if he were going to escape that he had looked like a man on the verge of ridding himself of an incubus her guests were getting along famously every one seemed pleased happy they were chattering and laughing for hardly no reason at all mrs bazin had no liking for the people at her table she despised mrs gilchrist resented aubrey the judge gave her a faint feeling of repulsion henrietta was a simpleton fanny irritated her with her continual blushes and sensitive innocence doris was too silent and always brooding and even george he somehow failed to convince her although she desired to be convinced but all of them together were nice like a pleasing combination of colors people belong together alone they had faults but when they came together and forgot themselves they were nice she felt proud of having them at her table because there were so many of them they were nice people when they were like this just talking not arguing or saying things that convinced her somehow that they were wrong things under the table the little comedies of the day were playing a furtive sequel. Henrietta, sitting next to Bazine,

Starting point is 03:59:56 was shyly pressing her knee against his. Fanny had reached out her foot until it rested against an ankle she fancied belonged to Aubrey. For a few minutes, she failed to connect the attentiveness of Judge Smith, his paternal banter,

Starting point is 04:00:13 with her activity under the table. But the suspicion slowly arrived. Her eyes calculated the position of the judge's legs and blushing she withdrew her foot she noticed that aubrey sought her face when she wasn't looking and that kegan was talking with a blurred politeness to mrs gilchrist doris sitting next to mr ramsay felt annoyed he was continually asking her what she wanted passing her salt shakers and bread plates and conducting himself as if she were a helpless child under his care mrs gilchrist as the first conversational flush inspired by the food subsided launched into a detailed description of the plans for the coming fete talking in a precise emotionless voice i was saying bazin's voice emerged in a silence that followed mrs gilchrist's talk i was saying that people are easy to get along with if you understand them and they understand you. I had a case in court the other day, where a woman was suing a man for breach of promise.

Starting point is 04:01:28 He had proposed marriage to her, and then, without reason, broke his pledge. The woman was my client. Murmurs of how awful! That must have been interesting, arose. Bazine nodded sagely. He had, without knowing why, started improvising the narrative, inventing its details with their creditable, dramatic, and legal talent. There had been no such case, client, or denouement, but he continued unconscious of this fact and his desire to tell the story. The man, of course, was a rascal, an unscrupulous rascal. The girl, my client, a charming, innocent young thing, had believed him. He had courted her passionately, or, I should say, assiduously.

Starting point is 04:02:24 I couldn't understand how any man, after giving his word and asking a girl to marry him, could possibly be rogue enough to do what he had done. So, during a recess in the case, I sought the fellow out. His name was Jones. We had quite a talk. Bazine paused. What happened? Fanny exclaimed.

Starting point is 04:02:50 I wish you'd tell us more about your work than you do, George. It's so interesting. Yes, go on, Mrs. Gilchrist commanded. Bazine hesitated. His improvisation seemed to have come to an end. He was mysteriously, at a loss as to how to make the lie turn out. But, inspired by the attention of the table, he resumed, well of course a lawyer must be first of all faithful to his client he paused again he had almost decided to end the fiction by explaining that on investigation he had found the man to be right

Starting point is 04:03:33 and that the defense the man had given him privately of his actions had caused him to withdraw from the case but this would sound quixotic unreal there would have to be explanations why had he started the lie to give it that ending so that he smiled a sudden appreciation of what he was doing trying to excuse his jolting of henrietta an event not far off if she persisted in holding him to the thingamabob foolishness but he went on this sometimes prejudices an attorney against his opponent but i found this time that all prejudice was one warranted. The man was a thorough rascal. It had been his practice to propose marriage to girls, innocent girls, of course, and he had several times managed to take advantage of their faith in him and ruin them. Fanny averted her eyes. Mrs. Gilchrist stared with an uncomprehending frown at the talker. The judge permitted a grimace of distaste to pass over his face as he murmured. the cad yes sir men are cad my client won resumed bazine with modesty and was awarded five thousand dollars by the jury but the law could not give her back the happiness this scoundrel had snatched from her

Starting point is 04:05:09 had he had he accomplished his purpose with her arbri inquired aloofly interested in the plot details of the narrative no fortunately bazin answered but look at him now free although found guilty free to continue his tactics he paused confused henrietta was beaming at him her eyes wide with admiration he felt he should have given at the other ending and cursed himself silently for what he had done he had only made it worse when he had meant to tell a story that would help matters and make her understand mrs bazin regarded her son unhappily she was convinced he was lying because he usually mentioned the big cases he had and he had never before referred to any jones suit but she was unable to understand why any one should lie without cause and after a moment of doubt her son's stern face and positive manner managed to convince her again he wasn't lying bazin as the others took up the discussion of the narrative dropped his hand to his side and furtively pressed it against henrietta's knee at this sensation of physical contact a feeling of relief came to him in the sensual thrill this contact aroused he buried the discomfort of the words running through his head she thinks i'm going to marry her damn it damn it he was startled when glancing at her in the midst of his daring excursion under the table he noticed her smiling coolly and primly at aubrey who was talking

Starting point is 04:07:05 will you have some of this mr ramsay's voice protruded through the silence several eyes turned toward him as if he were about to take up the burden of the talk. Mrs. Bazine interrupted quickly. What was that book you told me about, Mr. Gilchrist last month? she asked. Aubrey looked up inquiringly. I mean, your father! The elder Gilchrist blinked and seemed to peer into the depths of his memory. I don't remember, he said, clearing his throat. They were the first words he had spoken,

Starting point is 04:07:47 since he had said, Thank you, thank you, and sat down in a corner of the Bazine Library. His wife stared at him as if he were a phenomenon unexpectedly revealed to her gaze. It must have been, stammered Mr. Gilchrist,

Starting point is 04:08:06 Soutonious, I think, or the Chevalier de Beaufleur. I'm sure that was it, Mrs. Bazine agreed. I must get that. to read. The judge frowned disapprovingly upon the elder Gilchrist. He resented readers. Culture was a state of soul acquired by being a gentleman, not by reading books. He resented also the impression Aubrey had left during the annexation discussion. As a matter of fact,

Starting point is 04:08:40 he felt sleepy, the result of the food he had eaten, and he was automatically seeking for some occasion which would warrant an expression of dignity or resentment, or anything in which he might hide his heaviness of spirit. The sight of his daughter regarding Aubrey with a sweet, prim attentiveness, supplied him with what he desired. The idea of Henrietta marrying that fool was annoying. Old Gilchrist was a sly dog, and his wife a difficult woman. He would forbid the thing. It might hurt Henrietta for a time, but he knew what was good for her. A mere storywriter had no real standing in the community, no future. Whereas Bazine, he lowered his eyes and glowered at his plate. Nice, young man, honorable, and full of promise. Promise. End of Chapter 8. Recording by

Starting point is 04:09:49 Chapter 9 of Gargoyles This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 9 Love the stars, love people's faces, buildings and faces. What do I know about them? God knows.

Starting point is 04:10:23 Rotten streets. Life's a great harlot that men keep chieps. chasing. That gives herself to men, all men, everybody. I want her. I want her. He walked angrily, a cap in his hand, a pipe clenched between his teeth. He was thinking as he walked. Emotions came out of his heart and burst crests of words in his mind. Angry emotions. There was an anger in him. He was overcoming a feeling of futility. He was overcoming a feeling of futility. as he walked. The street was a carnival fringe.

Starting point is 04:11:03 Cheap burlesque theaters, arcades, museums, saloons. This was blurred. He saw no lithographs. One side of the street followed along at his elbow, a slant of pinwheel lights. On the other side across the street,

Starting point is 04:11:21 pinpoints. But he saw nothing. Things passed unresistingly through, his eyes. He remembered now a mile of walking, the business section asleep on Sunday evening. He had walked through that, darkened windows, ghastly in animations. Why was he angry? Aha, he snarled. He was cursing something. He asked questions and answered them. This got him nowhere. There. Stars, buildings, faces. He wanted to knock them over. That was inside him, a wish to knock him over. More than a wish. A necessity. But he could only walk. The world scratched at his elbow. He could bite on his pipe. This thing hurt him. People, rotten people. Crazy jellyfish with jellyfish hearts. jellyfish brains. He could swear at him like that. But why? He didn't know. Only this thing in him made him blow up.

Starting point is 04:12:37 It was easier when he worked. His father calmed him. His father stood over the bench planting the fine-grained wood. A great man, because he loved the wood he cut and carved into pieces of furniture. But jellyfish, sat in the chairs they made in his father's shop. Damn him. Love people. Say something. What? Say something. Get it out. Ah, the dirty, filthy swine. That was the way he thought as he walked.

Starting point is 04:13:16 A long, furious mumble in him, this man walked and saw nothing but light slants, spinning windows. He was young and he wore a cap. He would get it out of him. Show him. Ah, a nip to the air. Spring blowing his heart up like a balloon. All they wanted was women.

Starting point is 04:13:40 And all women wanted was to be wanted. No, that was wrong. Damn, always wrong. His feet talked better than his head. Clap, clap on the pavement. Where were the he? others going? He didn't hate them. Someday it would all come out like swan swimming. Very majestic. He would talk easy and smooth. But now people kept him from putting it over.

Starting point is 04:14:14 They wrapped him up. Ideas wrapped up his words and killed them. Streets, buildings, stars chewed at him. He must knock them over and get himself free. Put his hands on things and knock hell out of him. Love him, love him. How the hell? Why the hell? Lindstrom. Linsstrom, that's my name.

Starting point is 04:14:41 I got a name. I'm the greatest man in the world. The world's greatest all-around individual on two legs walking, smoking. Damn. But what could he do? Saw wood, smear varnish on wood, monkey around with wood? That didn't get it out. When he wrote, it came out.

Starting point is 04:15:05 But rotten. He wrote rotten, crazy rotten. If he was the greatest man, why in God's name, he'd show him. A long breath brought the night into him like a sponge. It drained something out of him. He could grin. a very evil grin at a saloon window. He could look around and notice.

Starting point is 04:15:30 That's what eyes were for. Look, people walking. Poor, sad, broken people. So sad. Ah, tired eyes in the street that looked for lights outside themselves. I'm going nuts. That's what, nuts. But the mumble went on, questions and answers in a circle, biting their own tales. God forgive them all these people. He must do something. Arms around them whispering to their

Starting point is 04:16:08 hearts something that would say, yes, yes, I know it all about you, how you think one way and feel another, and how everything ends, how everything ends in a little little. cry that goes up. Love their faces. Damn it, love them. He'd show them. He'd talk to the lights in the street. Why not? Do you know what? Do you know? It's all a humpty-dumpty, eggheads falling off a wall and smashing. But I know what. I got your number. Wait. There was something to say. Why? damn it not that way hit poor sad ones on the head better the dirty swine in the city hall aha ring their necks what for wrong something else they were like him brothers everybody you could kill the whole of them and there would be something left behind that was good life But a better way than that, don't hit.

Starting point is 04:17:24 Arms around them, lips to their hearts, and talk like that. Make the hyenas sigh. Make the jellyfish weep softly. Make the stars dance in their idiot thoughts. Sing them songs. If only the songs came out. It was evening, spring evening in a dirty, lighted street, and he walked biting his pipe.

Starting point is 04:17:50 He said to himself, What's there to this thing? Let us study it. Many people in many houses and many streets, and each of them a known thing. But when you take all of them together, that's an unknown thing. If you know me, if you know one, what then?

Starting point is 04:18:13 Nothing. It remains only one known. There is still everything else to know. one man multiplied by a million isn't a million men but an infinitude of millions he would get the hang of them all though all the millions he would think it out get his fingers on something that didn't exist for fingers to touch that was art it was easy when you figured it that way he walked along often figuring it that way and understanding something that had no words living with something that was like a strange phantom in a great dark deep this phantom was a stranger inside him a phantom like an insane companion that had a way of putting its arms around him inside him and a way of holding him like a horrible mother then when it did he stopped calling himself nuts nuts he became silent then and vanished the phantom devoured him all there was of him that everybody knew that even he knew all that vanished the phantom devoured him and it was easy then

Starting point is 04:19:34 but the phantom let him go took its arms off him and he came back out of the deep then he felt himself leaping up with a choke in his lungs leaping through layers and layers with no surface to reach he must go up up from the easy embrace of the phantom and keep on raging yelling out to himself that something had sent him shooting up now he walked and it was easy the night blotted out his eyes and he lived with himself down deep where the easy embrace waited such moments came when he walked and he must be careful that was writing being careful and watching the little words that did danced high up and that he could watch when he raised his eyes from the embrace. Sky rockets far away. He watched them, breaking in crazy spatters of light against the top of things where the sky came to an end. He was thinking like that now. Lucid thoughts that he later stared back upon and wondered, What the hell were they? I had something. What was it? now he was thinking them with this deceptive lucidity as if they were something he was thinking how when he was younger when he was a boy he used to run down country roads

Starting point is 04:21:01 apples trees and rivers and growing fields that sang at night were there and yet there was nothing what did that mean that was easy to answer there was nothing because it was all outside him in a marvel way. When he was a boy long ago, so long ago, and he lay on his back and looked at the night, and the night was nothing in his head, the night was a song that chanted itself to him. The stars were something he had spoken. Darkness was a sentence echoing off his lips, and the world was marvelously outside, and it gave itself to him. The boy lying on his back, handed the world to himself as a gift. There was nothing to want, everything to have. Long ago when he was a boy watching the day and night without thinking.

Starting point is 04:22:00 But it all went away. Now what was it? That was easy to answer. The night that had been a song chanting itself, the stars that had been his words dancing, the darkness, clouds, trees, river. and roads the fields and the people crawling with tiny steps under the cornfield sky these went away altogether and he couldn't find them any more these things he had said without speaking these all went away beautiful familiars they misunderstood something in him and vanished from him that was long ago now he could remember them and his remembering them was like hearing them was like hearing them

Starting point is 04:22:47 them again. That's what made him angry. He could hear them as if they were calling, Find us, find us. And he said back, all right, I'll find you, wait, I'll come after you somehow. You're my old friends. I'll get you back. Christ knows how, but wait. But this made him think he was laughing at himself, kidding himself. he knew better the things that had gone away were in the faces of people in buildings in lights in streets under his feet christ why couldn't he lay hands on them again since they came so close they choked him and made him howl inside with choking he was letting go now again the easy embrace was shooting him up and he began to know again he was nuts he hung on to himself a little by saying words easy boy easy he stopped walking for a second and a happy smile came to his set mouth the smile said it was over he was leif lindstrom again and nobody else he could become calm like this

Starting point is 04:24:11 it was like blowing a fire out with a grin his head was clear and he was happy the street was like a merry-go-round the night had a smell of life in it that came from the lake whatever living might be and whatever the choke inside him was a man was a fool to forget this other the calm grinning strength of muscles and the way his nose buzzed when he drew his breath in now he was leif lindstrom walking to call on his girl and he could think of others the poor little others the superfluous others only he didn't have to get angry at them or he didn't have to fall in love with them it was just thinking straight well the way men talked to each other was funny the way they swapped lies was funny poor rich happy sad broken bawling ones they all made the same lies to each other the government was a lie god was a lie and all the gabble about good and bad and what not to do and what to do and all the laws and everything beginning from the beginning and going ahead as far as you wanted it was all lies so many of them that all the philosophers had never been able to begin straightening things out and if somebody found out something true what then well they grabbed it and made it into a lie pronto used it as a lie the poor little crawling ones on the earth made up lies to explain things but most of all they made up lies to keep alive

Starting point is 04:26:05 if they didn't lie to each other they would all fall apart and vanish because nature would have it that way so they must go contrary to nature and keep on surviving nature demanded the elimination of the unfit but it was the unfit that desired most to live so the unfit made laws and rules and institutions and inside them protected by them kept a lot live. So the will to live was the thing that created lies. But the worst lie the little people told was when they called themselves life. That was the chief lie, the Grand Sachem and High God of all lies. Because they were not life, they were part of something inexplicable that altogether might be called life. But each of them separately was a dead one, a dead one, a A dead one buried deep in life. That was the difference about him, Lindstrom.

Starting point is 04:27:11 He wasn't buried in life. There were moments when he shot up like a man shooting through layers of graves. The others let the thing called life pile up on them, and it became a mystery of graves that reached to the farthest star. But with him there was no piling up. He would keep on shooting out of it till he would keep on shooting out of it till he had lifted himself up where there were no graves. Sh, sh, he murmured to himself.

Starting point is 04:27:43 Let's not be nuts tonight. Plenty of nights for that. Let's talk about other things, about her. Her face was beautiful, dark eyes, dark hair, silent. That was like she was. The thought of her made him grimace inside with pain. he wanted her as much as that but what did he want her for god knows what does one want for in order to get rid of wanting nothing else kiss her bah she was a victory he wanted her like that when he was near her they didn't have to talk or hold hands they came together in a different way she was so beautiful

Starting point is 04:28:34 i love her he said quietly he wanted to be quiet so he spoke quietly she was marvellous he would like to cut himself up into bits and give himself that way to her he would like to die a thousand different ways and say here i destroy everything i am in order to become a gift for you that was like placing oneself on a burning altar the ecstasy of the sacrifice one. That was it. Some nights like this the world became too small to live in. The city swept away from his senses, and everything in the city seemed like a room full of cheap little broken toys he had outgrown. He would sit in a room with this bigger room, a lamp on his table, and write. Or he would strike out like this time and walk to her, miles across street. I want her, he said. His thought paused.

Starting point is 04:29:41 But what do I want of her? he asked. I don't know, but I want to give myself to something. And he began thinking over how many ways there were to die as a gift. This lighted window was her house. The curtains were down, but light spurred through the sides. The sight of the house. house with its light-fringed windows depressed him. It was a disillusionment. She wasn't a woman then, like he was a man, but she was a part of things. He saw her as he walked up the stone steps,

Starting point is 04:30:21 saw her talking to people. She had parents. In his mind, she lived as an entity, a beautiful one without background or lighted windows or stone steps. Someone for him. He lived, him, nobody else. He rang. The door opened. A man like himself stood blinking in the lighted hall. Good evening, said Lindstrom. His voice was deep for his age. He spoke in a drawl that seemed edged with anger. Is Doris in? Oh, hello, Bazine exclaimed. Yes, she's in. Come right in. people were talking in the next room. Company, said Lindstrom. He didn't want to go in, but Bazine was leading the way.

Starting point is 04:31:16 The supper had ended ten minutes ago. The company looked up at him. They were all dressed well. Their faces were dressed well, too. They wore carefully tailored satisfactions in their eyes. When they smiled, their mouths postures. like ballet dancers in a finale. They were rich people.

Starting point is 04:31:40 Their hands were soft. The room blurred before Lindstrom. There was no reason for it now, because he wasn't thinking or caring, but a rage crept into his senses. He breathed in deep with his mouth opened, and the feel of the air in his teeth and tongue made his jaw set,

Starting point is 04:32:01 because he would have to be careful what he said. because he was saying inside to himself damn em the scum his eyes brought pictures into his anger they stared with deliberation into other eyes and brought back messages he was being introduced he was saying to himself deep down they're all alike like peas in a pod they smirk and talk alike and they're all stuck on themselves alike and they're all stuck on themselves alike and they're all liars, damn liars, all alike. He would have to take care and not argue. He would sit down. Doris was upstairs, and she would appear in a minute. Then they would go for a walk and shake this room out of their eyes.

Starting point is 04:32:55 They chattered like monkeys, satisfied with themselves. Yes, know-it-alls. tickled to death with themselves. An old man with the heavy pink face and sleepy eyes, a well-dressed old man, they called Judge, if he could punch this guy in the face, let his fist smash into his jelly face. God, what a thrill!

Starting point is 04:33:22 A flushed girl, Doris's sister, wiggled her body in a chair. What she needed was somebody to grab hold of her and say, come on kid a square hard-faced old woman talking of society what she needed was someone to walk up behind her and kick her hard and when she raised her glasses to look laugh like hell and spit in her eye that would make her human and this smart alec bazin what he needed was somebody to tie him to a stake in a dark prairie and let the wind and rain go over him till he got hungry and began to whine that's what they all needed wind and rain to bring them back to life but he must be careful and say nothing there was doris's mother she wasn't so bad but this other guy this writing guy talking about books god why didn't somebody choke the life out of him what did he know about books and he talked about writing what was good writing

Starting point is 04:34:37 he asked that this guy did he would have to be careful what he said to this guy and keep himself from jumping up and murdering him hell take all of them and make em burn that's what they needed he hated all of them they were rich damn him he must sit and grin at them these jellyfish who wiggled in their graves and called their wiggles by great names who were dead dead dead how dead they were and happy about it happy didn't they know how dead they were doris was like them he was a fool for coming to see her as if she were any different from them she belonged with this filthy crew she was a filthy little tart like the rest of them let her go to hell he'd tell her to go to hell when he saw her she was one he could not talk to. Uh-huh, they were given him the up and down. His shoes were dirty, his collar soiled, his clothes weren't pressed. That was the way with these dead ones.

Starting point is 04:35:51 They made standards of their clothes because clothes were all they had. And their idea was to make people feel inferior who were inferior to their clothes, or to their manners, or to their other artificialities. but he didn't have to feel inferior if he didn't want to he was the kind who could stand up in a graveyard like this and say go to hell to the pack of them and grin and walk away and forget all about it he noticed they look at him not quite as they looked at each other that was right they knew he had their number mrs bazin too was looking she asked

Starting point is 04:36:36 i understand you write mr lindstrom books all bound and pretty standing in a row with your name in the papers as a young writer of note and invitations to speak at women's clubs was what she meant that was what writing was to people to jellyfish i try to write he answered making the correction softly so that his words purred you should know aubrey gilchrist said bazin do you know his work i do not said lindstrom still purring what is he right bazin chuckled inside his unaccountable aversion for aubrey was growing novels said bazine oh said linstrom dragging the syllable out and placing a huge granite period after it what writers do you like fanny inquired with a successful attempt at social artlessness she was looking for something in this friend of doris's she was in awe of him because he was dirty-looking and because he swayed as he sat in his chair he kept swaying as if he were on secret springs and would jump up any minute he frightened fanny I read good books, said Lindstrom, books written by men. Mrs. Gilchrist sat up stiffly.

Starting point is 04:38:13 Her husband peered out of his glasses. He liked Lindstrom. He wanted to talk to him, but he got no further than clearing his throat several times. The judge interrupted with a glower. He was given the floor, eyes turning to him, a defender. but he merely glowered that was his decision that settled it if he glowered this mujik was done for he glowered linstram off the face of the earth

Starting point is 04:38:47 but lindstrom turned full on him and thrust his face forward as if he were going to come closer what kind of books do you read he asked the glowerer the snap in his voice startled henrietta she was afraid for a minute this strange-looking creature waiting for doris would do something and she turned appealingly to bazin all kind sir the judge answered in his most effective baritone lindstrom nodded his head slowly and a grin came into his eyes he kept looking at the judge and grinning and nodding his head and just as the judge was going to say something lindstrom abandoned him he had turned to aubrey aubrey had grown eager a confusion inspired by an impulse toward garrulity was in his eyes he wanted to talk to this linstrum and discuss things beyond everybody in the room lindstrom thought he was a soda-water clerk one of those radicals with unbalanced ideas but he wanted to talk to him perhaps they had something in common aubrey felt himself growing angry but it was not an anger of silences an anger of words he wanted to talk to reason with lindstrom and put himself over with lindstrom linstrom was like a conscience hello the arrival stood up and looked at doris he forgot about calling her names she was smiling at him like a fresh wind blowing through his heart the roomful dropped out of sight do you want to go for a walk he asked slowly

Starting point is 04:40:44 it's nice and cold outside she nodded and linstram with a long deliberate stare at the company spoke to them good night he said when he had said it he continued to stare as if he were weighing the matter over carefully and should say something more the pause grew embarrassing but not to him without nodding his head he repeated the result of his deliberation "'Good night,' he said in the same voice. "'That was enough.' He left them sitting in their chairs, a general calmly marching off the field of victory. He left behind a silence. The company was uncomfortable.

Starting point is 04:41:35 Mrs. Gilchrist and the judge stared hard at the doorway, through which Lindstrom had passed. They wanted to insult the doorway. lindstrom's visit had had a curious effect upon ramsay he had sat silent and avoided the young man's eyes but he had felt himself becoming animated as if something were exciting him when the young man had glanced at him for a moment he had blushed and an odd nervousness had made his thin body tremble now that lindstrom was gone he felt the room had become empty and entirely lacking in interest. How do you like him? Mrs. Bazine whispered at his side.

Starting point is 04:42:21 She was worried. Him? Oh, yes, the young man, Ramsey muttered. He, he has nice eyes. End of Chapter 9. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 10 of Gargoyles.

Starting point is 04:42:53 This Librevox recording is in the public domain. by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hett. Chapter 10 In the park, Lindstrom sat on a bench with Doris and talked. All this, he said, all this night and trees and things we feel more than we see, are like what you're like. But why should we call that love? Because love means to hold a woman in your arms.

Starting point is 04:43:27 I don't care about holding a woman. I want to hold something else. If you hold something in your arms, you haven't got it. It's what you can't get your fingers on that you own most. Because you dream about it. It's what you dream about that you own most. He spoke disconnectedly. There were pauses during which he allowed the night to punctuate his thoughts.

Starting point is 04:43:54 Have you written any more things since last time? Doris asked. no i didn't bring anything with me he was silent doris wished he would sit closer to her his silence excited her she could feel things moving in him she became nervous her dark eyes looked fully at his profile and a pride elated her other men didn't stare like that into the night they had fussy little eyes and fussy little bodies they fidgeted around but leif sat as if he were turned to granite there was something ominous about him the glint of his straight eyes and the leather color of his face were ominous she felt that he was powerful more powerful than the spaces he stared into he could stand up and swing the park around their heads she wanted to come close to him leaf she whispered why don't you come oftener i get lonely for you i hardly talk to anybody else he nodded as if agreeing with her and saying silently that's right don't talk to anybody else but he said nothing aloud she wanted to be the thing he swung around his head if he would take her up and destroy her it would make her crazy with happiness

Starting point is 04:45:27 she closed her fingers around his hand and trembled her body felt weak her arms were as if she no longer directed them they were being drawn i'm so proud of you you're so different from all of them leaf i can't stand them sometimes they're terrible he nodded his head with the ponderous air of sagacity they make me sick she went on All of them. They're not like people, but something else, like parts of people. He nodded his head again. She was all right, this girl. She didn't belong with the pack in the room he had left. She wasn't a little slut, one of those lying filthy ones. But he was afraid of her.

Starting point is 04:46:20 He wanted to keep things like they were. If you let down to a woman, she started climbing all over you, and asking for this and for that. Anyway, it was time to walk back now. There was a lot of work in the shop. He got up at six. They walked out of the park together. The spring night called for endings.

Starting point is 04:46:44 The darkness hinted. The day, with its houses and noises, lingered like an unnatural memory in the shadows. What were people for? The darkness hinted. doris felt a mist in her blood so curious the day unreal empty noises that circled faces that went on forever people had been moving forever they kept walking and walking there was no ending to people the years passed under their feet like a treadmill and they kept moving on now it was quiet beside this one man she felt there was no more moving on her heart filled with impatience it was hard to breathe her arms were heavy overcrowded

Starting point is 04:47:39 oh she whispered to herself i'll die i'll die but they continued to walk the man silences his ominous reserves his sagacious noddings had excited her she felt angry with him he had called for her a half-dozen times in the last two months they had met by accident in a book store a clerk had introduced them he called and they went for walks but he said nothing once he had told her she was beautiful another time he had mentioned as if it were a casual thing that she was the sort of girl to whom he would like to make a gift but of what he didn't know some gift worthy he said she had been frightened of him at first but gradually as she grew accustomed to his strange manners his bristling silences she became impatient angry he stopped i'll go this way he announced good-night he stood looking at her for a long minute and then turning walked away she watched him but he didn't look back she walked to the house alone her thoughts now were clear he was a man who didn't want her but was looking for something of which she was apart he never tried to touch her he never said i love you to her but he did love she knew that he called it by other names and misunderstood him and he might go on that way till he died misunderstanding himself to be near her thrilled him she remembered how he became taught immobile sitting on the bench his arms quivered yet he never tried to embrace her

Starting point is 04:49:43 she thought about this as she walked to her home would he ever embrace her she knew about his silences she could even feel how he suffered inside because something was urging him that had no direction. It was this life in him that lured her. It stirred her senses. Nothing before had interested her. Days had passed with no difference in them. Now he made a difference. When she remembered him, a pain that was like anger filled her. She would go to bed and lie in the dark, dreaming of him with her eyes open. A languor made it difficult to walk. She smiled to herself.

Starting point is 04:50:29 It was pleasant, sweet to think of him. For a moment the image of his face transfixed her. She whispered aloud, Talk to me. Oh, please, please. Then images that disgusted her, crowded her thought. They came of their own volition, her sister Fanny, kissing men.

Starting point is 04:50:53 her brother George kissing women. Keegan, the judge, Ramsey, Aubrey, and Henrietta. They disgusted her with their continual love-making, kissing, dirtiness. People like that didn't understand anything else. Their bodies searched each other out and clung to each other. Bodies clenched together. She began to rage in silence against them. He called them the pack.

Starting point is 04:51:25 They were like that, a pack of animals with nothing else but animal bodies to live with. She paused in her hating, a chill coming between her silent words. The company of images in her mind had dissolved. Their faces came together and blurred into a single face, and she saw Leaf Lindstrom holding her wildly against him, his lips open and hot against her mouth the company had gone her family was left in the library she had intended going upstairs without speaking but she came into the room and sat down

Starting point is 04:52:05 fanny looked at her with a questioning innocence that said dear me i wonder what people do who walk in the park at night her brother was talking he looked at her with a smile and went on You mustn't think I'm a blockhead mother about these people here tonight, for instance. Just because I get along with them, I'll give you my theory of people. We were discussing our guests, he explained, turning to Doris. She nodded. Never believe them, he grinned. They're all liars. The thing to do is to lie better than they.

Starting point is 04:52:46 honesty, purity, nobility, bah. I know what I'm talking about. That's what people tell each other they are. And they are, of course, till they're found out. You said a little while ago I was lying. Of course I was. But not the way you mean. That breach of promise case really happened.

Starting point is 04:53:12 I wasn't lying about that. You wait, you'll understand. what I mean after a few years. I'm going to do things. He stood up and yawned. Mrs. Bazine smiled happily at him. The day had tired her. She felt pleasantly responsible for her three children,

Starting point is 04:53:34 three human beings that belonged to her. At least she could pretend they did, and sometimes it was almost as nice dreaming of what they had in their minds as planning her own tomorrows. Bazine went to his bedroom. He undressed and lay down. Sounds continued in the house.

Starting point is 04:53:57 Doris coming upstairs. Fanny chattering to his mother, water running in the bathroom. He turned the gas out and lay with his face toward the window. His body was weary, but he felt young. He thought of the many years ahead. of him. Everything was new. Even the century had just begun. A new century. Life was a gay unknown. He thought about things. Things filled the future. They could not be seen or understood,

Starting point is 04:54:33 but their presence could be felt. Unlived years stretched ahead like a track without end. He must be careful not to grow too serious. Lying was in. easy, but he must avoid getting tangled up. Say anything you want to, but look out how hard you say it. People were easy. It would all come out beautifully. Success, power, fame, money, happiness. They were all easy. They would all come to him. People were fools, and you could get ahead of them. He yawned. He almost fell asleep. his mind mumbled with words his day-dreams his memories his weariness jumbled dim pictures phantoms drifted without outline over his head

Starting point is 04:55:28 he fell asleep and dreamed he was in a brightly lighted hall men were cheering music played and people were yelling his name in the dream he was going to make a speech the brightly lighted hall grew larger and the crowd reached as far as he could see. But he didn't come out to make the speech. Instead, a woman in a gaudy dress came out. Her face was white with powder and heavily painted. Her eyes were sunken. In the dream he shuddered because the great crowd would rave indignantly at the substitute who had come out to make the speech for him,

Starting point is 04:56:10 but instead a tremendous cheer went up at the sight of this woman and everybody yelled, Bazzine! Bazzine! There he is! Hooray for Bazine! They mistook the woman for him. The woman began to make his speech, the one he had prepared. She spoke in a tired, hollow voice,

Starting point is 04:56:34 but the crowd continued to cheer. Where was he in the dream? There was no Bazeen in the dream. He kept wondering about this. there was no bazin but the crowd thought this woman in the gaudy dress with the painted face was bazin and they cheered her for him calling her while he hiding somewhere the dream didn't say where listened to the woman and the cheers and the shouts of his name he was saying to himself with a feeling of horror i know that woman they think is me it's that woman they think is me it's that woman woman Keegan and I met once. Keegan and I met her, by God. He was going to stop something, but the dream went away. End of Chapter 10. Recording by Roger Maline.

Starting point is 04:57:38 Chapter 11 of Gargoyles. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 11. The city grows and keeps on growing. People vanish. Buildings spring up to take their places. The streets become full of vast, intricate activities. People have vanished, but these activities keep on growing. The city shakes with noises. A cloud of noises rises from the street and burst slowly into names. Everywhere one turns, doors and windows check. with names. Names run up and down the faces of buildings. Guilt names that slant downward. Porcelain names curve like lopsided grins. Names fly from banners, hang from long wires,

Starting point is 04:58:40 lean down from rooftops. The city is plastered with names. Tired men stop and blink. They mutter to themselves in the street, let's see, where am I? Their eyes stare at an inanimate dance of names. Names fall out of the sky. An alphabet face with eyebrows, nose, lips, and hair made of names, winks, and sticks out its tongue. These are not the names of people, but of activities. As the city grows, the names pile up and reach higher. names of things to eat, wear, see, feel, smell, dream of, and die for. They become too many to see and far too many to read. They drift up and down the faces of the buildings and scamper over the pavements like a lunatic writing.

Starting point is 04:59:39 The vanished people no longer look at them, but the names continue to pile up and spread out. They are a city apart. they no longer offer clues to people they are no longer advertisements yelping vividly out of the air but a decoration inscrutable hieroglyphs that salute each other in the grave confusion of windows they grimace with secret meanings at each other and keep each other company in the night sky like the people they too have become too many as the city grows their meanings and purposes also vanish, leaving behind a comet's tail and a deaf and dumb goodbye. The city grows and devours itself and ceases to become articulate in names. It shakes and howl senselessly. No one understands where the noises come from, or why.

Starting point is 05:00:41 Windows become too many to count. Activities double on themselves and tangle themselves up another activity, until each activity becomes a mystery to itself. Businessmen, buried in business, paused to blink at their desks and mutter, Let's see, where am I? Underneath the activities and the comet's tale of names, the vanished ones crawl about their business of destinations.

Starting point is 05:01:10 They have remained sedately unaware of their disappearance. They have barricaded themselves behind activities, activities and for the most part they are silent their activities talk for them in a language easy to hear but difficult to understand furnaces engines factories traffic these talk their talk is very important it is curious that for the simple business of keeping alive there should be so many activities necessary it is also incomprehensible. Among themselves, people offer each other information and interpretations. But these informations and interpretations are not of their souls, but of their activities,

Starting point is 05:02:02 which have nothing to do with them except to hide them. They talk of business enterprise, of success, progress, civic development, industrial achievement, political ideals, of most of money made and money spent. This talk sounds very important. It becomes an important part of the confusion of activities. Faces uncoiling in the streets, legs slanting against dark walls, suits of clothes, these are the vanished people.

Starting point is 05:02:37 Masses of rich and poor moving on, everlastingly moving on through the whirl of years. Age like a tenacious pestiless. shovels them off a treadmill. Yet they remain and increase and become hidden from each other by their too many selves, hidden from themselves by their too many activities. They grow confused and stop staring at each other. They walk listening to the shake of the city, blinking at the alphabet face above them. The city is a great bubble they have blown. It floats over their heads and grows greater and more dazzling.

Starting point is 05:03:19 Slowly it sinks down and engulfs them. This bubble talks for them. Activities talk for them. It is easier that way. Activities say, We the people. This suffices. The vanished ones point with relief

Starting point is 05:03:38 to the glitter of activities and repeat, There we are. But activities grow too, fast and too intricate to understand. The burst of names becomes too violent to grasp. Then the people lost in their bubble become an insupportable mystery to themselves. Buried beneath activities that grow by themselves, that seem to pulse with mathematical passions, and to multiply like a devouring fungus, the vanished ones send up a clamor for wise and wherefores.

Starting point is 05:04:14 An official clamor. Life has become an enigma deeper than death. The cry is no longer, Who is God, and where does he live? But, who are we and what are we? Surveying themselves, they see nothing and demand explanations of this phenomenon. Baffled by their anonymity,

Starting point is 05:04:38 they demand identifications. They want to be assured that things are all right, that their burial is okay. And thus new explainers and identifiers leap daily into existence. These are the bombinators, the dexterous geniuses able to translate the insupportable mystery of life.

Starting point is 05:05:01 Life is a mumble-mumble, a pointless delirium. People feel this and grow very serious. They feel life is a little breath, a whimsical zephyr, capered for a moment through space. But these are insupportable feelings. It is easy for the fish in the sea to feel like that,

Starting point is 05:05:23 but in people there is a mania for direction. Out of this mania is born the necessity of illusion, the illusion of direction. There must be illusion. Life is not a mumble-mumble, but a clear voice teeming with precisions. Not a pointless delirium. but a vast orderly activity that has names too many names to count as children demand lights in the darkness grown older they demand illusions in life their reasoning is simple

Starting point is 05:06:00 we are so puny they think there is hardly anything to us we dare not dream or even think look what would happen if we allowed ourselves to dream we would begin asking impossible questions of ourselves why are we what lies under our senses so we must put away dreams and thought they're dangerous but without them we become insufficient to ourselves we become incomplete so make us a part of something outside ourselves that we may remain unaware of our insufficiency make us a part of laws and ideas gods systems and activities we are frightened by what we do not know and above the highest names in our buildings is a circle of unknowns dispel this circle so that we may be rid of our fear give us paths to traverse goals to struggle toward and make these paths and goals outside ourselves we dare not adventure inside ourselves because that way is inimical inspire us with great outward purposes so that the inward purposelessness of our lives that would devour us in enigmas will be obscured the illusion-bringers arise dexterous craftsmen able to fashion purposes gods ideals their work is to create heroic destinations to invent objectivity these are the geniuses they provide the sanities which are the vital solace for terror they invent masters because masters are necessary since to have a master is to have an objective servitude

Starting point is 05:08:00 the instinct for servitude is an old unfailing friend it represents the clamor for an outward purpose to conceal the inner purposelessness of the vanished ones and the geniuses are those in whom the instinct for servitude inspires new visions of lovelier masters thus is progress made by increasing and making more definite the demands of masters once the geniuses found their task simple now it grows difficult famous masters famous illusions famous objectives lose their value their capacity for solace dwindles the illusion of god grows dim the illusions that bore the names zeus buddha moses jesus mohammed are fading the knees of the race have stiffened with vanity and prayer grows difficult the great heavens overladen with their angel choirs and hierarchies tumble about the ears of people slowly the reservoirs of faith in consoling myths dry up. Epigrams have almost sponged away one of the immemorial deeps of the soul. The geniuses cast about inventing new masters,

Starting point is 05:09:27 masters who will reward and punish and establish paths to traverse and goals to achieve. As the activities increase, and as people vanish deeper under the self-growing fungus of finance, government, they develop a paradoxical vanity, a vanity by which they seek to preserve themselves. A vanity becomes necessary that will save them from the knowledge of their inferiority to life. Their age-old illusion of gods on high drifts away. The new illusion slowly unfolds. Again, the reasoning is simple. The race speaks, There is no longer a God or a heaven of futures.

Starting point is 05:10:16 The words eternity and infinity are bottomless and no longer hold us or guide us. But we must have a master, one who will enable us to dream of his recompense, since we still dare not adventure in dreams of our own, and this master must assure us, as our old master did, that there are great purposes in life, great rewards. We will make a minor change in our theology. Once it was our desire to think of

Starting point is 05:10:49 ourselves as having been created in the image of God, a superior. This was when we were strong, when we walked the earth and wore our destinies like gay feathers in our caps. Now we have grown diffused and weak. The world is no longer simple enough for us to understand and ignore, we dare not ignore our disappearance from life. Therefore, in order to compensate for this disappearance, we will create a God in our image and worship him. The deeper we sink, the further we vanish, the higher, nobler, and more powerful,

Starting point is 05:11:30 will we make our new God. Come, illusion-mongers, we desire a new God. We desire a new heaven. make us a heaven of quicksilver in which we may not see jehovah who is a myth but our own image glorified which is closer to reality and which our dawning intelligence may more easily swallow in this heaven let us see our civic virtues magnified we want for a master an idealization of ourselves whom we may serve in hope of rewards thus the vanished one stare along and slowly the heavenly mirror spreads itself for them, a mirror of identifications and explanations. It is all clear, or at least a gross clear, in this mirror,

Starting point is 05:12:25 who we are and what we are. A beautiful image marches across its face. It is the image of the vanished ones, ennobled and deified, become a new illusion, become a godlike creature with flashing eyes. A marvelous, unsurpassable creature whose every gesture is perfection, whose every grimace is unsurpassable perfection. A reassuring God. Whatever their moods, their despairs, their manias,

Starting point is 05:12:58 they have only to look up and see them ennobled and deified in the mirror heaven. Gazing aloft, the vanished ones raise their voices in a cheer of triumph. confused. We have disappeared. Our activities have devoured us. But we are not afraid. For behold, whatever we do, we remain God. See our reflection. We are always and consistently perfect. Our stupidities, hysterias, bewilderments shine back at us out of this new heaven as godlike attributes. Wisdom and victory smile at us eternally out of our mirror. Let the city devour itself and become a jungle of names. Let life lose itself in the labyrinth of activities. Let the buildings devour life until it becomes less than a tiny warmth under huge ribs of steel. These things are

Starting point is 05:14:02 no longer insupportable. There is an answer always to who are we and what are we we are we are god by worshiping ourselves we may now dispel the dawning knowledge of our insufficiency the old god is dead he was an illusion the new god alone now has the power to punish and reward we will kneel with fanatical servitude before the image of our virtues and punish ourselves with a terrible justice in order to appear godlike in our own eyes. Slowly, the new heaven above the city grows, and the vanished ones with the eyes of Narcissus stare enchanted into its quicksilver depths. End of Chapter 11.

Starting point is 05:14:55 Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 12 of Gargoyles The Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Malene. Gargoyles by by Ben Hect. Chapter 12. In the days that followed her walk with Lindstrom in the park, Doris Bazine abandoned herself to her passion for the man. Her body desired him. She dreamed of their coming together as of some transcendental climax. But the months passed, and Lindstrom

Starting point is 05:15:39 held himself aloof. She felt certain of herself, though, it was only necessary to wait. She could go on dreaming of him and waiting, too. To think of him, to remember he was alive, this for the time was happiness enough. After a number of months, they saw each other oftener. He seemed to grow more dependent on the fanatical admiration of her eyes and words. Her flattery stirred an excitement in him that he was learning to utilize in writing.

Starting point is 05:16:13 The fact that he was loved made it easier to write. The memory of the things she said, of the desire in her eyes, was like music. It was easier to write with music playing in his head. But the more he wrote and dreamed of writing, the less he desired her. So her passion became an applause urging him from her. He would listen trembling to her gradually shameless avowals. You're so wonderful, so remarkable. You're the only man in the world that's

Starting point is 05:16:46 alive. Your genius is something I can't even talk about. It must be worshipped. I love you. In the midst of such monologues, she would suddenly vanish from Lindstrom's thought. Her beauty and desire were powerless to hold his attention. Her enfevered praise would become a lash that drove him into himself. And trembling with a passion that her love had aroused, he would leave her. But it would be a passion which demanded possession, not of her, but of himself. He would walk excitedly to his room over his father's shop and sit down to write. After many months, Doris began to understand. He brought her poems he had written, poems like night music and passion music. She felt his heart throbbing among their words.

Starting point is 05:17:43 Even his body was in them. What she wanted of him he gave to the poems he wrote. She announced herself at home as tired of her surroundings and dependents. Through the aid of a friend, she secured a job as clerk in a large bookstore. One evening she came home to tell her mother she was going to move. Bazine entered the argument that followed. To her surprise, he took her side, agreeing with her that a modern young woman had a better chance of realizing herself if she lived alone and made her own way.

Starting point is 05:18:22 Mrs. Bazine refused to be convinced. Not about the theories, she explained, but about Doris. When her two children argued with her, she felt herself the victim of a conspiracy. Why did Doris want to leave her home? And why did George want her to? The answers didn't lie in the arguments they gave. But because she was, unable to determine what the answers were, she assented. Later, she thought, If I haven't given my consent, she would have done it anyway. This way, I've saved her from being disobedient. Doris took up her life in a two-room apartment on the near-north side of the city. The district was alive with rooming houses, little stores, lovers who walked hand in hand at night,

Starting point is 05:19:14 artists who tried to paint, writers who worked as clerks and tried to write, working men, artisans, derelicts. Everyone seemed alone in this district, and on warm evenings groups of strangers sat stiffly on the stone steps of the houses and stared at the sky. Doris was able to live on her salary. She made friends, and her evenings were devoted to conversations. but they were a curious type of friends. They were men and women one got to know only by their ideas. One became acquainted with their ideas, then familiar with them, then on terms of intimacy with them. It had been different at home.

Starting point is 05:20:01 At home she knew men and women as they were. They sat around and talked, and if you listened to what they said, you came close to them. You understood them. them and when they said good-night you knew where they were going you knew all about them where they work their family their homes they grew into familiars as uninteresting and unmysterious as your own relatives but here where doris had come to live were men and women about whom you never learned anything they talked and talked but all the while you wondered where they worked what things were in their hearts you wondered how they lived and what they did all the time but you never found out such information were not a part of the talk that went on it was all talk about outside things about politics and women and art everybody in the circle doris entered became familiar in a short time but after they had become familiar there remained this mystery about them what sort of people were they were they

Starting point is 05:21:11 under their poses and behind their words. The most curious change her freedom brought Doris was a guerrility that surprised even herself. She became adept in arguments vindicating the emancipation of her sex and proving that the ideals and standard by which women lived were the rose-covered chains forged for their enslavement by man. But her guerrility did not deceive Doris. she grew more clearly aware of herself she knew that her entire upheaval her taking up new ideas her repudiating conventions had been inspired by a single factor

Starting point is 05:21:54 she wanted to live alone in a room so there would be no difficulty in giving herself to lindstrom when the opportunity came with this in mind she had deliberately converted herself into a new woman since an expression of the new woman was independence of family and since independence of family meant a room to herself of this subterfuge doris became tolerantly aware her hypocrisies did not concern her in her desire for the man she loved the surfaces of her life disappeared like straws in flame lindstrom had visited her in her new quarters with misgivings when he was alone he often sat thinking of her and repeating her ardent phrases this helped him to make love to himself to seduce the strange companion who lived in the depths of his soul into embracing him out of this embrace came words out of the ecstasy these hypnotism is induced he was able to create gigantic phrases, mystic sequences of words whose reading often inspired people with an excitement similar to the emotion that had produced them. Women in particular grew emotional at the contact of his written words. When he read his poetry to some of them, who were his friends, they closed their eyes and

Starting point is 05:23:25 thought he was making love to them. Lindstrom, utilizing the adoration Doris, gave him as a means of self-seduction, and remained aware of the danger this offered the danger was summed up in the word marriage at twenty-six his sexual impulses found sublimated outlet in the orgies of self-seduction which he called his creative work thus his physical nature clamored for no other mate than his own genius and the lure of marriage as a legalized debauch failed to touch him his egoism likewise found a more perfect surfeit in his own self-admiration than in that of others. He saw in marriage merely a forfeit of his privacy and an intruder upon his self-love. Dora, studying him carefully from behind her abandonment, discovered the barrier. I don't want ever to marry, she explained to him.

Starting point is 05:24:27 This started talk in which Lindstrom defended marriage as an institution. He grew eloquent on the subject that society and civilization were dependent upon marriage, and that a man who sought to dispense with it was merely being unfaithful to himself as a member of society. Dora saw through the angry phrases of her friend that he was trying to tell her how little he desired her. He was defending marriage and proclaiming his belief in it, in order to excuse his physical indifference toward her, both in his own eyes and hers since she had said she thought marriage was an abomination he could safely defend it without compromising himself he need have no fear that she would agree with him in this way his pose as a moralist was a convenient method of concealing the fact that he had no impulse toward immorality he could even insist with impunity that she marry him and so use her retort

Starting point is 05:25:31 stand against marriage in general as a personal refusal. Doris allowed matters to drift through the year. One winter night, Lindstrom, invited innocently to occupy the sofa in the studio, rather than to tackle the storm-bound transportation outside, consented. He sat reading things he had written until midnight came. He did not see how it happened, but when he looked up after one of the of his readings, Doris was sitting before the small, great fire. Her face was turned from him, and he stared at her. She had undressed and slipped a green silk robe over her body. Her black silk

Starting point is 05:26:17 stockings gleamed like exclamation points in the firelight. Her throat and breasts were visible, and the shadows mirrored themselves in her white arms. As he looked at her, the warmth of the room seemed to bring her closer. He thought her beautiful, and standing up went to her side. His hand sought clumsily to caress the hair coiled on her head. He stood silent, remembering how she loved him. Always the thought excited him, but now he seemed to be thinking about it with a curious calm. There was something about a woman who loved that was beyond the words to figure out. She looked, up at him with a smile. A faint odor stirred from her. He found himself drawing deep breaths and staring at her with a heavy pain in his arms, the pain she had always brought to him and out of which

Starting point is 05:27:16 he had made his words. Now this was easier, simpler, to reach his arms around her. "'I belong to you now,' she whispered as the dawn lighted the room. The fire in the great still burned feebly. They had kept it alive during the night. "'You see,' she went on, "'I was right about not marrying. We can love each other like this without marrying ever. "'Oh, I love you so. You make me so happy.' "'Yes,' he murmured sleepily, intent upon the whitening room. "'Don! The white shadow of night!' whispered itself through his mind.

Starting point is 05:28:01 but he said nothing after an interval he repeated as if delivering himself of innumerable ideas yes lindstrom slowly extricated himself from the lure of her passion for months her love dissolving rapturously in his embrace remained a flattery too bewildering to resist he allowed himself then to yield to the slowly accumulating demands of his mistress nevertheless in a month he had lost interest in his own sensations the thought of impending embraces in the studio failed to arouse him there was nothing doris had to give that was comparable to the delicious elation his own self-seduction held for him but although the physiology of sex lost its attraction for him he remained interested in doris's submission her delight in his caresses and her excurses and her exclamation of arduous love fascinated him as a species of applause he grew able to resist the contagion of her sensualism and to make her happy without essentially occupying himself in the second year of their association he gradually undermined her passion aware of his complete coolness doris fought successfully to suppress the ecstasies he was able to stir in her their relations by degrees returned to a platonic basis lindstrom was becoming known his poetry printed in fugitive labor gazettes was attracting a slight attention he was being identified as a poet of the masses the masses however unable to understand let alone appreciate the mystic imagery and elusive passion of his verse libres phrasing's remained oblivious to him

Starting point is 05:30:00 him. They continued to read and swear by the newspaper jinglers, celebrating in rhyme the platitudes which kept them in subjugation. His fame was beginning through the enthusiasm of a few scattered dilettantes who abhorred the masses and saw in his work an intense technique and high aesthetic quality. He remained loyal to Doris in one respect, still coming to her for the adulation which somehow quickened his desire to write but Doris with the repression of her own desires had grown silent she appeared to relapse into her former self the enigmatic and disdainful virgin of the bazin library but this simulation included only her mannerisms as a girl of twenty she had been without thought now a strange intellectualism preoccupied her it developed when she was twenty-three and when lindstrom was beginning to ignore her again it began with the knowledge that there were definite preoccupations luring her lover from her against one of these she knew herself powerless this was his desire to write she had understood this thing in lindstrom from the first it had been in fact the lure of the man but now it had taken entire possession of him and had become her rival he had grown dumb his gray eyes no longer smiled or roved

Starting point is 05:31:39 they gazed without movement as if fixed on invisible objects they seemed without sight yet there was life in them an intensity like the anger of blindness he no longer looked at things he avoided contact with the visible and imposed a deliberate fog on his vision. He went through his day, unaware of details, yet absorbing them, unseeing, yet translating the commonplaces around him, into phenomena that tugged at the hearts of his few readers. Doris knew the futility of combating in her lover, the habit of self-seduction now became a vital necessity. She tried to establish a harmony between them,

Starting point is 05:32:27 by turning to writing herself. The clarity of her mind made poetry impossible. Her thoughts refused to dissolve into magnificent blurs. Her emotions were too definite to find solacing outline in ambiguous pirouettes. She envied her lover his natural aptitude for poetry. It seemed to her a comforting and satisfying evasion to write poetry. There were no rules.

Starting point is 05:32:57 of logic coherence technique there was even no rule of intelligibility there was a man named levin with whom she discussed matters of this sort exchanging definitions with him of such things as life love and art he was a jew and worked on a newspaper lean vicious-tongued and unkempt the fantastic skepticism of this man attracted her he was a man without principles ideas prejudices his attitude toward life she sensed to be a pose but he had been completely consumed by this pose and the pose was one of superiority his brain was like a magician it waved words over ideas or problems and they turned inside out or they vanished and reappeared again as their opposites he appeared to devote himself with a mysterious enthusiasm to proving every one but himself in the wrong when he read editorials in the newspapers he would comment they say this but they mean this and he grew elated explaining the low sordid motives which inspired the noble phrased pronouncements in the press and elsewhere when she talked to him about poetry one evening he knew her well enough to understand she wanted to talk about linstrum doris had tried her hand at poetry and the results had been in a measure satisfactory poems had come out under her pencil she compared them coldly with things leaf had written they were as good and better she offered them to levin to read he nodded after each one and smiled very nice excellent superb Then he handed them back to her and added,

Starting point is 05:34:59 I've always known this. Anybody can write poetry. This poetry is quite good, but it remains you're no poet. And he recited from memory a few lines of Lindstrom's work. You see the difference, he said, his rings truer, although yours is much more lucid and beautifully written. The difference isn't between your work and his, but between your work and yourself and his work and himself. When Lindstrom wrote that, he felt a thrill of satisfaction. He had for a minute completed himself in the poem. Therefore, the thing represented a certain perfection. When you wrote, you felt nothing after writing it. In an hour, the whole thing seemed rather senseless and unworthy of you. You felt no thrill of completion. This shows that no matter

Starting point is 05:35:59 if you write a dozen times better than Lindstrom, the fact remains that you're not a poet, and he is. But why write poetry? I have a friend who says that poetry is an impish attempt to paint the color of the wind. He hasn't written any himself yet, but he will. But I've warned him. he'll never succeed lindstrom will because lindstrom has the faculty of rising above logic he can recreate his emotions in words emotion is unintelligent banal wordless the trick of being a great poet is to make your mind subservient to your emotion the triumph of matter over mind in other words he noticed an inattentiveness and stopped he hoped some day to make love to her but as long as she remained interested in his verbal juggling he was content with that when she was alone doris took a morbid interest in unraveling ideas and attenuations of ideas morbid because the process seemed to bring a melancholy to her but she persisted there was an elation thinking was like a game in which one surprised one's thinking was like a game in which one surprised oneself with denouement one day while walking she reasoned silently about her situation her love for lynstram had grown

Starting point is 05:37:32 at times it felt on her like a despair she would lie in the dark of her room repeating to herself that she would go mad unless he came back to her unless he loved her walking swiftly she began to think of her plans her plans centred upon bringing him back to her arms if i'm going to do this i must first of all be clear about myself she thought i've become interested in lots of things i must find out why and what started me the answer that came to her was one of the denouement of the game it repeated but clearly that she was chiefly concerned with bringing leaf back to her and that one way to do this was to become keener than he become brilliant enough to deflate him to confuse him and this could best be done by attacking his subject matter by turning his conceptions of life and people upside down and so throwing him out of gear when she got home she was still thinking what i must do is make him think he doesn't think the pictures he sees pass like blurs through his eyes and come out like blurs under his pencil if i can make him think he'll have to open his eyes he'll have to defend what he accepts without defenses now the nobility of the masses the beauty of life and if he starts thinking and doubting he won't be able to write because he's not built to write that way he's built to write out of passion

Starting point is 05:39:21 the idea became cruelly apparent in her mind she must destroy linstrom in order to possess him she must beat down the passionate certitude of the man puncture his blind roaring egotomania take away from him his genius and then he would turn to her her. Her thought at this point gave itself over to the passion in her. Anger filled her and a strange viciousness, as though she had something under her hands to tear to pieces. Her clear-thinking mind was a weapon, a thing she could use to destroy a rival with. And if it destroyed Leif along with the rival, what matter? Slowly the morbidity of her position grew. levin was an ally his talk gave her ideas directions in which to think she disliked his attitude the man was an insincerity there was also something unctuous and cowardly about him he never stood up for his notions in the face of conservatively indignant people he capitulated and even denied his beliefs or lack of beliefs yet in the nihilism to which he pretended she found a background for her own thinking nihilism to levin was a conversational pastime to doris it became a despairing hope for salvation

Starting point is 05:40:55 she poured over books carefully questioned the secrets of life not like a philosopher seeking answers but like a messalina questing for poisons her debates with lindstrom were at first casual and good-natured a humility before his genius made her unable to assert herself he could hurl his mystic word sequences at her and their beauty made her incapable of appreciating their lack of psychological content but her determination grew she must destroy what the sombre ecstasy which the spectacle of people awoke in him. People, people. The word contained the shape and soul of her rival. People. Workers, toilers, underdogs. He sang of their bruised hearts and their little gropings. Songs of unfulfilled dreams, of moods like ashen baskets that broke under the weight of life. Coal miners, farmers, stevedores, vagrants, desperado. drowsy clerks and fumbling factory hands.

Starting point is 05:42:11 The dull faces of the immemorial crowd sweating for its living, grunting under its burdens. His phrases hymned their loneliness and their defeats. Beautiful phrases that seemed almost the work of a fantastic word-weaver. But she knew better, the little images, the patterns of street scenes, the aloof fragments of idea, these might be, to some, only decorations. The curve of a pick going through the air, the shake of a great trestle with an overland train thundering across, the glint of a night torch under the eyes of a section gang,

Starting point is 05:42:54 these might be only abstractions outlining bits of rhythm and color. But then Lindstrom would not have been a poet. it. There was beneath them, buoying them higher and higher, like some mysterious, invisible force, a passion. It escaped now and then from between the lines of his work, shaking itself like a fist, holding its arms out like a lost woman. Threats crept out of the placid little images in which fragments of street scenes postured vividly for the eye. A fury loomed suddenly behind the mumble of a hurdy-gurdy piece, a snarl offered itself as invisible punctuation for a folder role of city life. It was a passion that identified itself with, and seemed to flatten

Starting point is 05:43:45 upon, the injustices of life. It sought to champion the war of the crowd against man and nature. The humble ones, the humble ones, it sang, they are God. The one's life walks upon. The working ones. The cheated ones. Here is their song. The oppressed ones. Listen to their hearts beating. It was a passion out of which a great propagandist might have been born. But Lindstrom's mind was too simple to utilize it, even to understand it. He was aware only of a torment that seemed to twist at his heart and bring words like soothing whispers into his thought, A craftsman obsession molded it slightly, but always the inarticulate excitements that had started him writing

Starting point is 05:44:39 remained fugitive among his written words, saying neither, I hate, nor I love, but affirming with a monotonous crescendo, I am, I am. Doris caught by the fanatic lyricism of his songs, yielded her intellect to them for a time, the shoemaker wotens and hobo-christ's startled her into an acquiescence but she was determined she knew that her praise of his poetry was like an admiration of his infidelity yes he loved people as he might have loved her blindly with his heart with his arms around their bodies and his gray eyes looking hungrily through them

Starting point is 05:45:27 the debates grew less casual there were abrupt climaxes during which he stared at her with anger then it was no longer a debate of ideas but of wills here she knew herself powerless and yielded at once making use of her apology to caress his face or seize his hand alone again she would study the things she had said as she studied from day to day the social political and spiritual history of her own and other times. Her mind grew to master the phrases which outlined the illusions of the crowd, which revealed the lusts and errors of the crowd. Her thought inspired by the single desire to destroy for her lover the beauty of her rival rallied continually from its defeats before his anger. Her cynicism became a mystic thing, her adoration of her lover turning into a hatred of life, a contempt of people. At night she sat in the window of her room, overlooking the thinly crowded street.

Starting point is 05:46:37 The obsession held her now, occupying her energies entirely. In its excitement, in the mental twistings, she found rest from the desires that burned. Alone, she was alone. She would play languorously with this sense of loneliness. She would repeat quietly, He'll never come to me again, Never hold me in his arms. How beautiful he is!

Starting point is 05:47:07 His lips are not like any man's lips could be. But he doesn't love me anymore. He loves this in the street below, Men and women in the street. And here her thinking would begin, a sequel to the preface of sorrow. Below her moved the face of her rival, the crowd. She must study the thing out carefully,

Starting point is 05:47:32 so as to be clear in her words when she talked to him, so as to make her words a poison in him that would destroy the passion for her rival. The night lifted itself far away. Little lights ran a line of yellow at the foot of buildings. men and women. What were men and women? The blur of faces in the street, moving along every night. What was that? Something to idealize and give one's soul to? No. Individuals racing toward their secret destinations and tumbling with a sigh into an inexhaustible supply of graves,

Starting point is 05:48:13 that was a phenomenon to be studied separately. Out of that, one could locate plots, dramas, humor, tragedy. But here below the window was another story, was a great character that had no name but that her lover worshipped. The crowd, this thing in the street he sang of as the crowd, was a single creature. Its face was one, its voice won.

Starting point is 05:48:44 It had one soul, the soul of man. A dark third. thing, alive with inscrutable desires. They're not people, she whispered, her eyes staring down, but traditions walking the street, accumulations of desires and impulses taking the night air. She watched it move in silence, buried beneath names and buildings. The crowd, it was blind to itself. Its many eyes peered bewildered bewilderedly about.

Starting point is 05:49:18 its many legs moved in a thousand directions and yet it was identical faces different shaped bodies different colored suits these were part of a mask sentences that drifted in the night laughters sighs these were part of a mask under the clothes faces names talks of people was a real one the crowd it had had been a real one the crowd it had had to be a no brain. And yet this creature that moved in the street below, in all streets everywhere, made laws, made wars, and mumbled eternally the dark secrets of its soul. The crowd, a monstrous idiot that devoured men, reason, and beauty. Now it moved with a purr through the street. It was going somewhere, making love, making plans, diverting itself with little hope, its passions and its secrets slept it moved like a great somnambulist below her window with a fatuous complacency in its dead eyes its many masks disported themselves in the night air but let hunger or fear let one of the inscrutable impulses awake it and see what happened ah communes terrors rivers of blood heads on spikes

Starting point is 05:50:48 torture and savagery. She must tell this all clearly to him, explain lucidly to him how the hero crowd of his singing was a gruesome and stupid criminal blind to itself and afraid of itself, and inventing laws to protect it from itself. How it was a formless thing with hungers and desires molded in the beginning of time, how it demanded proofs of itself that the darkness of its brain and the savagery of its heart were the twin gods from whom all wisdom and justice flowed how the workers the defeated ones the underdogs he sang of and loved were like the others lesser masks envying superior masks and how the idealisms gods and hopes they all worshipped were lies the beast whispered to itself fairy tales by which the beast consoled itself fairy tales by which the beast consoled itself Yes, a monster that devoured men who threatened its consolations, a wild-fanged beast purring eternally in the path of progress. Reason was a little cap the masks wore that every wind blew off.

Starting point is 05:52:06 Her loneliness faded. Seated by her window, Doris no longer desired the lips of her lover. There was another elation, a knowledge of the thing in the street. a certainty that she could make leaf lindstrom understand one evening when he had returned to her after an absence of a month she decided to talk calmly to him of the things she had been thinking he came in with an air of caution that frightened her for an instant she studied him as he took off his coat and hat and sat down it was autumn outside dark wind seemed to have followed him in This was an old trick of his that had once thrilled her. He seemed always to have come from far away places, to have risen out of depths with secrets in his eyes. Her heart yielded as she watched him.

Starting point is 05:53:04 There was the quality about him she could never resist, the thing her senses clamored for. Not that he wrote poetry, but that he was a poet. It was almost useless to argue with him. to destroy him. No matter what he said or what he was doing, she could see him always as he really was, a silent figure walking blindly over men and buildings, over days and nights, walking with its eyes snarling and its mouth tightened, walking over days and nights after a phantom, a silent figure walking after a phantom. The phantom whispered,

Starting point is 05:53:46 come and the silent figure nodded its head and followed that was how she saw him when her heart yielded when she desired again to throw herself before him make herself the phantom he was following but the obsession in her changed the picture slowly not a phantom but a face she knew the face of the crowd a wild fanged monster that had cast a spell over her lover and he went walking blindly after it calling words to it singing lullabies to it when all these things should have been for her their talk began as she wished it he was ill at ease why had he come he was afraid to stay away why she wondered questions as he sat uncertainly in the chair and offered vague gossip and information to explain his presence then she said abruptly i'm writing a story i've decided not to do any more poetry but write a story a book maybe he nodded what about he asked people about people she smiled she noticed his body stiffen and his eyes grow hard yes about people he repeated slowly he was cautious when he came to see her now she had reason to make demands of him she had given herself to him and he didn't trust her and she was always trying to do something to him he knew this it was hard to understand her lately but one thing was easy she was not to be trusted how they come together in crowds she continued evenly and lose themselves in a common identity

Starting point is 05:55:45 how they become a hideous, unreasoning savage, a single savage. I'm going to write a book making this savage the—the hero. She paused to look at him. He was inattentive, but she knew better. You should be interested, she smiled. Why should I be interested, he asked slowly. Because you write about people, too. Yes.

Starting point is 05:56:16 Or think you do, she went on. I'm going to write about people as a crowd, as one savage without a brain. That's the crowd. And this savage is the hero of my story. Without a brain to think he creates out of his savagery, the gods, laws, and illusions under which you and I live, Leaf. Do you understand that?

Starting point is 05:56:41 He looked at her. without answer. Her heart grew alive with strength. She knew he was incapable of any answer but anger. His anger could usually defeat her, but this time she felt she could laugh at him when he began to scowl. She stood up. You, she said softly, are like they are, like the crowd. You do not think or reason. You only feel. Words are action. to you, crazy hats that rain down on your head. You write out of a hatred for things superior to the beast. You're mad at life because it isn't as beautiful as you'd like it to be.

Starting point is 05:57:28 So when you get maddest, you begin to sing lies about it. She laughed at the scowl on his face. Yes, I've figured it out, Leif. You're a terrible liar. When you say you love people, the crowd, you're a terrible liar then. You don't love the crowd at all. What is your love of people but a blind infatuation with yourself? You hate them. Whose humanity are you all the time writing about, and singing about? Your own. But you're ashamed to admit that. Sometimes people

Starting point is 05:58:06 are ashamed to boast of themselves, so they boast of something else they've created in their own image, of their gods. That's the way you boast of your crowd. You're ashamed to boast of yourself, so you fix it up for yourself by giving the virtues you think you've got to people, and then singing about them, as if you were an altruist and a sympathetic human observer. You're a great liar, Leif, and the thing you love is a lie you make up, because people are foul, you know it. They're not like you or me. They can't think even as much as a rat thinks. They're as rattle-brained as chickens, as greedy as vultures. And they lie all the time. Good God how they lie! You hate them too. You know all this better than I do. But you keep feeling

Starting point is 05:59:06 things, and you imagine there are things people feel. You—' she said, stopped and looked at him with a smile. She had started to insult him, and had ended by pleading with him. His jaws were working as if he were chewing. This was his anger. But she felt no defeat, nothing but a slight confusion. She was disappointed in herself, because she could not recapture the thoughts that had filled her during the month. They had been clear at their inception, but now they were mixed up with desires for leaf, with a fear of him. They were mixed up so that, out of what she was saying, there arose no clear image of leaf and his relation to life, or of the crowd and its foulness.

Starting point is 05:59:59 Why don't you answer what I say? she asked. Are you afraid to discuss things you were absorbed in? If people are so wonderful, let's talk about them. She felt a trot. She felt a she had destroyed something she could tell by his eyes they were becoming wild and unfixed if she could be certain of destroying it forever of killing in him the love for her rival then the little finger of one intelligent man is worth the whole of the french revolution she was saying excitedly you're no different from the other cowards who devote themselves to flattering the monster You know what I mean. The monster rewards liars and flatterers. All you have to do to be great in the eyes of the world is to celebrate the glories of the monster, to make a lick-spiddle of your genius. It's an old and easy formula. Why don't you think? You stand up with your eyes closed and sing about things that never existed, about the beauty of people and—and, and—and, and— And Lindstrom thrust his face close to her. She paused. A desire to laugh came as she stared at the two familiar features of the man.

Starting point is 06:01:24 This was the face she had held in her hands and covered with kisses. Nights of passion and adoration had been shared with this face. Now it held itself savagely before her and grew blurred. Something had been destroyed in it. it was no longer familiar it was somebody else's face people it said as if it were going to spit at her yes like you say think about them god damn leith she murmured don't call me leaf he glowered closer oh then you're angry well i didn't expect you to agree she made her voice tender now she did not want his face unfamiliar like this as if she had never held it in her hands and covered it with kisses but he continued to thrust himself unfamiliarly before her yes i agree about the crowd he answered his eyes swinging over her head his jaw is still working i agree you got em right down in the mud of themselves and me with them do you hear that

Starting point is 06:02:42 me singing with them get me now i'm going to tell you she moved away from this unfamiliar face but it came closer again i don't want any of your brains not for mine i want to be like i am this beast you talk about that's me he can't talk or reason all right he won't then but he'll do something else he'll live He'll go on living. Yes, he raised his voice to a shout. I agree with you, because I'm the crowd. Do you get that, you dirty, you dirty fool, you... The oath brought his passion into his head. His hand clenched and his fist shot into her face.

Starting point is 06:03:37 She staggered away from him, calling his name. He watched her fall. against a couch. A rage cried in him. He was a liar, was he? And a coward? All right, he was. Look out for all liars and cowards then. He walked toward the couch and stood above her. What did she want of him? She wanted something. Tears filled him. People, people that Sweated and grunted and crawled around like beasts and raised their eyes at night to the stars. This monster she gabbed about, this thing without hands or eyes. That was it.

Starting point is 06:04:23 She was crying on the couch. All right, let her. But she was crying because she wanted something. His hands grabbed her head and straightened her face until their eyes were looking into each other. listen he said he was shaking her i'm going away eyes watched each other she looked until the face she had once kissed became entirely strange there was no leaf no lover but a face staring murderously into hers but there was something else tears behind the stair why was he weeping the question like a tiny visitor sat down in her mind. He let her go and walked from the room,

Starting point is 06:05:14 grabbing his hat and coat into his hands as he went. Doris listened. Down the stairs. Outside. He was gone. She went to the window. Her eye had swelled and her cheek pained. She sat down and looked into the street.

Starting point is 06:05:35 He hit me, she was whispering to herself. she began to weep with shame but her tears seemed to soften her heart toward him he had cried too she arose and went to the bed here she had lain with him warm familiar hours here her arms had held him she threw herself down and wept aloud end of chapter twelve recording by roger maline chapter thirteen of gargoyles this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline gargoyles by ben hecht part two chapter thirteen george bazzin was going to see his sister doris in the nine years since she had left her mother's home she had become a strange woman to bazin she had always been strange to him but now it was a strange to him but now it was a son if she were entirely unhuman. He could talk to her without shame of things that were shameful, but there was something more tangible in her presence than the joy of being able to confess things to her. She was practical in her ideas. She gave him hunches for his speeches sometimes,

Starting point is 06:07:11 and what she said about people and how to make an impression on them was always of value. She understood such things. How, he couldn't do it. determine. It was probably an instinct with her. Bazine walked along in the spring afternoon. It was Sunday, and he should have stayed home. Henrietta had been angry when he left. Sunday was his day for her and the two children. There were two children now, one, a boy of seven, and a girl of five. But he said, I want to see Doris. She's been feeling rather off lately. and if you don't believe i'm going there why'd just call up in an hour and keep on calling every hour if you want to keep check on me he was always angry with his wife when he left her

Starting point is 06:08:05 she made him feel that he was doing wrong although she seldom said anything but to go away and leave her on sunday was wrong but not for the reasons she sometimes hinted at he knew that she suspected his frequent absences from the house he accused her of hounding him with her jealousy and the knowledge of his innocence he had never been unfaithful during the eight years of their marriage made him angry the elation of righteous anger in which he indulged himself on all occasions involving henrietta was a ruse which obscured for both himself and his wife the actual reasons of his absences she bored him to a point of fury his children and their endless noises and questionings set his nerves on edge he fled in order to escape his home but henrietta hinted that he left her for some one else and he denied this hotly and in the excitement which accusation and denial aroused both of them managed to avoid facing the fact that he stayed away for no other reason than to escape the boredom of her presence and discomfort of his home. Bazine was careful to avoid this fact. It was incompatible with his ideas.

Starting point is 06:09:28 He had become a man of belligerent righteousness. He was slowly emerging as a public figure. As an assistant in the state's attorney office, his political activities were attracting more attention than his legal work. He was in demand as a campaign orator. and the candidates in whose behalf he addressed the public were men he pointed out with an air of fearlessness who believed first of all that the home was the cornerstone of civilization he is a man worth while he would declaim a capable administrator but first of all our candidate is like you and me his heart is centered in his home the greatest rewards life holds for him are not the offices we are not the offices we are able to bestow on him, but the love of his wife and children. Since his marriage, which from

Starting point is 06:10:24 the first had irritated him and then set his teeth on edge, he had devoted himself seemingly to a public idealization of his own predicament. Nine years had brought changes in Bazine. He had grown leaner. His face had sharpened into hawk lines. There was about him at 34 an aristocratic pugnaciousness. Fearlessness was a word which was gradually attaching itself to his name. He was fearless, people said. His lean body and unphysical air contributed to their decision. When he appeared publicly, people saw a wiry-bodied man past thirty with an amazing determination about him. His words snapped out, his eyes flashed as he talked.

Starting point is 06:11:15 And his talk was usually. alive with denunciations. He denounced enemies of the people and ideas that were enemies. During the minor campaigns for aldermen, state's attorney, and the judiciary elections in which he had been employed by his party leaders, he had created a slight newspaper stir. The public had quickly sensed in him an interesting character. And then, although he was years working toward this end, he had suddenly leaped forward as a champion of their rights. He had become one of the select group of indomitable David's, striding fearlessly forth to do battle with the Goliaths that threatened.

Starting point is 06:12:00 And there were always Goliaths threatening. Insidious Goliaths. Shrewd, merciless Goliaths, continually on the verge of opening their terrible maws and devouring the rights of the public. bazin was coming forward as a champion consecrated to the slaying of goliath's not only during campaigns which of course was the open season for goliath slaying but between campaigns behind closed doors where nobody saw in the bosom of his family he never removed his armor or rather never laid aside his holy slingshot he was always locked in a death struggle with his own he was always locked in a death struggle with new and unsuspected goliaths this wiry fearless man who is beginning to cry out in the newspapers the enemies of the public must be overthrown it matters not who they are or in what camp they are the city must be cleaned up following the failure of several private banks in the cosmopolitan district of the city bazin had leaped forward against this new goliath

Starting point is 06:13:11 this had been his first major offensive private banks were threatening the peace of the public he had made several speeches before business men's associations denouncing private banks and private bankers he had declared with utter disregard of personal or political consequences that they were a menace that they were sharks swimming in the waters of finance and that he would not rest until the public had been made safe against their predatory merciless jaws. He was, on this Sunday morning, in the midst of the fight against private banks. The excitement had started with the failure of a small banking institution on the west side. The newspapers had carried the usual stories

Starting point is 06:14:00 of weeping depositors and heartbroken working people whose lifetime savings had been swept away in the crash. Bazzine had overlooked the stories in the papers. doris had called them to his attention he had been sitting in her studio here was something worth while why didn't he start a campaign against private banks there was always agitation but as yet not a big campaign when he left her the thing had already matured in his mind he wondered why she had laughed during the discussion of the possibilities of such a campaign He remembered her saying, with a sneer, That's the sort of thing the crowd eats up.

Starting point is 06:14:47 The trouble with you, George, is that you haven't learned the trick of frightening the mob. You can't be a leader unless you frighten them first, and then leap out to defend them. The menace of private banks is something to frighten them with. Start a crusade. That was it. A crusade. Movements and reforms were all. all very well, but they were slow work. In order to advance, one had to attach oneself to tidal waves. Doris was right about frightening them. Within a week he had launched his attack. He had developed a technique

Starting point is 06:15:27 in his public utterances which was becoming more and more unconscious, and so more and more convincing. Once determined that a crusade against private banks would be a step in his uppercum, climb, his cynicism in the matter vanished. He investigated the subject thoroughly, filling his mind with statistics. Events played into his hands. A second private bank collapsed at the end of the week, and Bazine knew that the ground was ready for his crusade. He began, not with an attack against the institution of private banks, but shelving the statistics he had carefully mastered, he concentrated upon creating a sense of terror in the public mind. In statements given out to the press and in speeches before businessmen's associations,

Starting point is 06:16:21 which were also reported in the newspapers, he pounded on the note of menace. They were a menace. They were something to be afraid of. They jeopardized stability. They were wildcat institutions. It was his first first, crusade and he waited nervously for the response. The response came after a pause of a week like an answering shout. Down with private banks. A conflagration of headlines flared up. The people were against private banks. Editorials heralded the fact. The newspapers were against private banks. A week ago, private banks had been the furthest topic from the public conversation. Now it became a matter of violent discussion. Citizens' committees were being formed for the purpose

Starting point is 06:17:17 of fighting private banks. Feeling began to run high, very high. A neighborhood Polish financier, who for years had conducted a small banking institution, was mobbed on his way to work, and rescued from the violence of the crowd, which threatened his life, by the arrival of police. This incident was reported by the newspapers as revealing the determination of the men seeking to wipe out the menace of the private bank, and also as revealing the unscrupulous power of the men engaged in the private banking business. The growing clamor against the institution resulted naturally in the collapse of two more small, all banks, whose depositors, terrified by reports they themselves were circulating, rushed to withdraw their savings. Bazine, contemplating the extent of the public indignation, felt a pride and a

Starting point is 06:18:18 misgiving. He glowed with the thought that he, Bazine, had started the thing. His name had, from the beginning, figured prominently in connection with a growing crusade. Bazzine denounced private banks had started it and then a flood of headlines banking sharks prey on poor says bazine and then bazine flays private bankers at mass meeting private bank menace growing he had kept his head during the publicity and unaccountably his thought had turned to his sister as the crusade gathered momentum as the menace grew although alive with a powerful indignation against the enemy bazin remained mentally aloof in contemplating the situation his aloofness was not a cynicism but a guide he studied the fact that the clamor was in the main artificial the menace of the private bank was a thing that touched less than one per cent of the population there were no more than thirty such minor institutions in the city and more than two-thirds of these were as sound as the bank's under government supervision his statistics had revealed this nevertheless in some mysterious way the phrase private bank had become synonymous with ogre villainy menace calamity

Starting point is 06:19:53 his original denunciations published rather casually by the press had been a species of newspaper feelers the public had responded realizing then that the subject was a live one the papers had cut loose the idea of a trusted public institution being a danger and a menace to the community was quick in awaking a sense of alarm a sense of fear inspired by no facts but by the reiterative rhetoric of the press swept the city bazin for several days sought futilely to understand the phenomenon of this fear it seemed almost as if people were filled with constant though innate fear of the things they trusted a man named levin whom he had met at doris's explained it that way he had listened to the man talk the reason people turn on their trusted institutions with such fury is simple when a platitude they have blindly upheld seems about to betray them they fall on it and tear it to pieces this is because a platitude is kept alive blindly and it must be destroyed blindly when a platitude commits the offence of becoming obviously too obviously a lie or an incipient danger people are of course overcome with the horrible doubt that all platitudes are lies and dangers this general suspicion which overcomes them this wholesale fear or panic which sweeps over them they let out of course on the one platitude by viciously denouncing the one platitude they manage to assure themselves that all the others are all right they sort of lose their general terror in an unnatural but specific hysteria

Starting point is 06:21:51 and they always turn themselves into an overfed elephant jumping furiously up and down and trumpeting terribly at a mouse bazin carried this explanation away he allowed it to linger in his mind without thinking of it he knew that the fear was unwarranted and yet the excitement had taken on the proportions of a public uprising the editorials of the press became couched more and more in grandiloquent languages reminiscent of biblical passages in fact a religious fervor had entered the clamor the overthrow of the private bank was a mission of righteousness an integral part of the higher christianity of the nation to say nothing of the dreams of its forefathers with this growing and exalted anger a new phenomenon struck bazin it was the strange myth that had sprung up seemingly overnight of the power of the private banks. He knew from his study of the facts that the private bankers of the city were a handful of haphazard, third-rate financiers without prestige in the courts or pull in the politics of the state. Their total holdings represented a slight fraction of the money tied up in the banking business of the city.

Starting point is 06:23:13 They had no standing comparable with the standing of the supervised banks. The big interests, including the men of power in the city, were against them, and they were, as a matter of fact, a puny byproduct of the city's intricate finance. Yet now they had become an insidiously entrenched monster. Public men of affairs vied with each other in revealing the mysterious power of the private bank, and bazin was left to marvel in silence over the fact that the wilder the public frenzy against private bankers became the huger and more difficult to overthrow where the private banks made out to be his pride as author of the crusade began however to be colored with misgivings others had risen to challenge him for the leadership of the movement stern fearless men as stern and fearless as himself were offering to sacrifice themselves on the altars of freedom the altars of freedom the press explained were the battle-ground of the fight against private banks

Starting point is 06:24:24 the public's attention was being distracted from bazin men of greater prestige than he had hurled themselves into the death struggle these great ones were more qualified than bazin for leadership they were older and of deeper experience in the slaying of goliaths now it seemed that perhaps one of them and not george bazin was the hero who would be able to overthrow this latest menace to the public wheel bazin's misgivings took the form of an irritation he sensed the fickleness of the public and understood that it could turn from him who had started the whole thing and give its adulation to some other leader who had jumped on the bandwagon and crowded bazin off the driver's seat his cynicism returned as he read the denunciations his rivals were hurling at private banks a pack of fools and foreflusher's he muttered to himself and their words paraphrases of his original denunciations for the most part nauseated him the word bunk crept into his thought as he read their speeches and interviews he would like to stop the whole thing to stand up and say it was a word bunk crept into his thought as he read their speeches and interviews he would like to stop the whole thing to stand up and say it was all a tempest in a teapot, and that there was no menace or ogre or Goliath, that the whole thing was made out of whole cloth. Then the entire business would collapse, and the men threatening him for the leadership would be left high and dry. Doris looked up as he entered. She was a silent-looking

Starting point is 06:26:06 woman. Her face wore its pallor like a mask. She greeted her brother without expression. Her luxurious body seemed without life, her hands gesturing as if they were weighted. The sensuous outlines of her, which brought to mind the odalisks of Titian, found a startling contrast in the immobility of her manners. She was thirty, and in the half-lighted room she seemed like a beautiful, burning-eyed paralytic. Tired? her brother asked as he sat down. This was of late his year. usual greeting. She looked tired always, and until she began to talk, she looked as if she were dumb or blind. But when she talked, her eyes lighted. She shook her head to his question.

Starting point is 06:26:59 She had come filled with troubles and confessions, but her black eyes, centered on him, disturbed him. He had become used to the sardonic weariness of her face, but there were times when he felt as if something were happening to her that he couldn't understand. Her eyes would burn and seemed to shut him out as if she could look at him without seeing him. Her complete inanimation startled him. He knew he could sit talking all night and she would never move nor ask a question. Long ago she had been a little like that, never asking questions, but sitting among others as if she were alone.

Starting point is 06:27:41 But now it was more marked. There was something wrong with Doris. What she needed was to go out more. She was getting too self-centered, brooding too much. Bazine, as he sat studying the window and the profile of his sister, kept remembering how she used to be. That was years ago when they had all lived at home. And this poet, Lindstrom, whom everybody was talking about,

Starting point is 06:28:10 used to call on her. She had been in love with him, but that was long ago, eight, nine, ten years ago. It couldn't be that, and it couldn't be that she was in trouble because she had been like this for years now. He remembered her youth.

Starting point is 06:28:30 Her silence then had been different. It had been alive. And now she sat around like a corpse, and if it wasn't for her eyes moving a cat, you might think her actually dead. Sometimes this thought did frighten him as he sat watching her. She was dead. He would restrain himself from jumping up to see and sit listening to hear her breathe.

Starting point is 06:28:57 He felt sorry for her. When he had married Henrietta, she had been the only one who had understood. He could always remember what she had said at the wedding. It was the only thing he could remember. recall of the event, what Doris had said to him, You'll never be a great man if you let yourself get trapped like this too often. Surprising that she should know enough to say that, because anyone who could say that to him must know him thoroughly and understand him thoroughly.

Starting point is 06:29:30 It was what he had been saying to himself for months before the wedding. He felt sorry for his sister. They were good friends in a way. a curious way, because he felt she detested him somehow. Yet she understood him and could help him, and she liked him to come to see her. He wondered why. She had no love for him,

Starting point is 06:29:56 but there was something about him that appealed to her and interested her. He had noticed how she acted toward others. Their talk left her dead. Even when Levine talked, she often remained unaware he was a rome, round. Her eyes never opened to people, even her mother. And Fanny had said, Doris is getting more and more of a pill. I think she's going crazy. She doesn't even look at a person anymore. He watched her and thought,

Starting point is 06:30:29 Poor girl, something wrong. I wish I could help her. He kept remembering how beautiful and alive she had been, and his heart felt an odd laceration, as if something he loved were dying. Was he so fond of Doris, then? He said, no, yet he could never remember having felt such sympathy as this toward anyone. It was because she was an intimate. He felt toward her as he felt toward himself, forgiving, appreciative, and a sense of pity. Why had he thought that? Pity!

Starting point is 06:31:10 Did he pity himself? He, George Bazine, who was just beginning to ascend? Henrietta and the kids, that was it. A man had to accumulate troubles if he was to amount to anything. The feeling of sympathy slipped from his thought. Doris had turned her eyes to him. Bazine was aware of her coming to life. The symmetrical mass-stretched.

Starting point is 06:31:36 of her face became features and expressions. Will you stay for tea? she asked. He would. Doris stood up and regarded him with a malicious smile. The crusade seems to be running away from you, she said. He nodded. The public-spirited leader in him did not relish the ironic tilt of her words, but he was able to assume a dual attitude toward her cynical intellectualism, he could frown on it with a sense of outrage, and he could listen to it with an appreciative shrewdness.

Starting point is 06:32:15 He could despise her iconoclasm and still utilize its intelligence to aid him in his clime. He had always understood that to his sister his aspirations were contemptible, and yet despite her sneering, she seemed anxious to help him realize them. he understood too that in his sister's mind there was something queer about people when she talked about people her eyes lighted there was about her talk of people a clarity of idea that contrasted strangely with the passion one could feel behind her words bazin usually tried to dismiss the impression she made on him by thinking oh she's a fanatic on the subject that's all but a mystery worried him why should she be interested in his career and why should she try to help him if she despised him and his type of ambition and moreover despised people and politics in general

Starting point is 06:33:21 it was a paradox and it made him uncomfortable but he sought her out all the more for this because there was something practical about her fanaticism yes and because she understood about him He had already told her secrets about himself, particularly about himself in relation to Henrietta. That formed a bond between them. He sometimes grew frightened at the thought of the things Doris knew about him, things she might tell to anyone and ruin him, wreck his home and his career. But always, after worrying about such fears, he would hurry to his sister and unburden himself still further, as if by feeding her further secrets he could make certain of her loyalty and reticence. He watched her less openly as she poured tea.

Starting point is 06:34:15 A bitterness filled him. If Henrietta were only a woman like this instead of a stick, if only he could sit home and talk things over with her, marriage would have some sense to it. He frowned. He did not like to think this way. Doris began to talk smoothly, her dark eyes growing more alive. He listened nervously, wincing under the contempt of her phrases, and fascinated by the startling interpretations they offered him of his own thoughts. If I were you, she said as she arranged the teacups,

Starting point is 06:34:54 I would let myself be squeezed out of the crusade. It served its purpose for you. You've frightened about a million feet. feeble-minded creatures into a fury against private banks. You've done quite well. That's the secret, you know, and you must always remember it. Create boogeymen to frighten people with. The more unreal the boogeymen, the more terrified the public. If you don't believe this, figure out for yourself. Of what are people the most afraid? God, of course, the greatest of the boogeymen. And remember, too, George, that people like to be terrified.

Starting point is 06:35:37 There's a reason for that. People like to be preoccupied by false terrors in order not to have to face real frightening facts, facts such as death and age and their own souls. She sat down and looked at Bazine with a pitying smile. What a fool you are, George. You don't believe a word I say, do you? What you say and how you say it are two different things, he answered. The thought was in his mind that Fanny was right.

Starting point is 06:36:10 Doris was going crazy. Her talk had an edge to it, as if her voice were being carefully repressed. He almost preferred her when she was silent, when her eyes slept. But now there was a hidden wildness to her. She was suffering. The thought startled him, but that was it. The hate that filled her voice came from a suffering inside. He wanted to reach over and take her hand and whisper to her to be calm,

Starting point is 06:36:43 but he continued to listen without moving. There were things in what she said that always held him. It was like learning secrets. She was still talking. Well, today they're shrieking and vomiting. vomiting invective, and you'd like nothing better than to be the heroic leader of this pack of filthy cowards? Would you? Well, it's not worthwhile this time. The whole thing will blow over. In a few weeks, people will have forgotten about private banks, and by the time you get the bill

Starting point is 06:37:18 into the state legislature, the papers will be ignoring the whole business. Do you see? There's nothing so tragic as the spectacle of a mob leader stranded high and dry with a yesterday's crusade, and this mob off in another direction. Remember, George, you're not dealing with people, with reasoning men and women. You always forget this, and you'll never get ahead if you keep forgetting it. You're dealing with a single creature, the crowd, a huge bellowing savage. I know, I know, Bazzine muttered. She was crazy.

Starting point is 06:38:01 Something queer in her head about people. All people aren't like that, of course, but I understand. You don't, she interrupted angrily. All people are like that. Alone, people are one thing. They're alive, and they reason a little. But when they come together to overthrow governments or defend governments or make laws or worship gods, they vanish.

Starting point is 06:38:29 A single creature takes their place, and this single creature is a mysterious savage who howls and spits and vomits and tears its hair and has orgasms of terror and befoules itself. Her eyes glared at Bazine. With an effort she controlled her voice. She continued in a passionate whisper. Don't you understand that?

Starting point is 06:38:55 yet? After all I've shown you? If you want to get ahead, I can make you anything. Do you hear that? Anything. I can make you a leader, a king. All you must learn is the way of turning people into swine. Please, Doris, you get too excited, please. Into swine and swine crusades. We'll find ways of bringing them together, and the more swineous you can make people become, yes, the more you can make them spew and shriek, the holier will become the cause of this spewing and shrieking. These are elementals, and you must trust me. Do you hear? Her fingers were cold.

Starting point is 06:39:42 They had closed on his hand. He shuddered. Crazy, poor Doris. Gone queer with something. Yet he was. found himself listening, her chill finger startling his flesh. Out of her ravings there might issue at any minute the thing he was always looking for. A way to get ahead.

Starting point is 06:40:06 Little crusades like this, she went on, are all right, but private banks are only a detail. And besides, the idea is too concrete to terrify people and bring out the full hysteria of their cowardice. need is something vague that has no facts to handicap it, something you can lie about wildly and frighten them with so that their bowels weaken. Please, drop the thing now. You must. Doris, you get too excited. Let's talk sense instead of getting excited like this." He patted her hand and returned her stare uncomfortably. He wanted to ask her why she was interested in his getting ahead, in making him a leader. She had paused. Bazzine felt himself

Starting point is 06:41:00 nauseated by the intensity of her words that continued to ring in his ears. Her anger and the viciousness of her phrases brought her too close to him. He could almost see something behind the glare of her dark eyes. Oh, you're not interested in progress and civilization, she resumed, mockingly. Her words seemed more controlled. He noticed that she jerked her hand away. Because if you were, you would see that progress and civilization are the results of the terror of the mob. It's when they get frightened of something and throw themselves at it with their eyes shut and their hair on end, that institutions are born, that new platitudes are set up in heaven. And the secret is this.

Starting point is 06:41:52 The worst swine you can turn them into, the holier will be the things they do. Listen, I'll tell you. You must do as I say. You must believe me. She had risen. Her hand was on his shoulder, and her eyes burned over him. He felt a bit fearful and impatient. To a point, her talk was interesting, but after that it became like raving.

Starting point is 06:42:19 you've told me that before he murmured please calm down an ecstatic light slowly left her oh yes sense she whispered well the sense of it is for you to become a symbol of their holiness be a leader isn't that it but the private bank crusade has fizzled i've read the papers closely and outside of the two attacks on the private bank crusade has fizzled i've read the papers closely and outside of the two attacks on the private bankers last week, there's been no great gestures of righteousness. If they'd hamstrung a few hundred private bankers, cut off their heads and burn down their houses, I'd advise you to stick. That sense, isn't it? Bazzine, listening to the uncomfortable distortions of his sister,

Starting point is 06:43:10 made up his mind. He translated her vicious suggestions into the less inconveniencing idea. The biggest part of her, of the work in the fight against the banks has been done already, Doris, and the rest anybody can do. Yes, she smiled, if you're going to be of service to the public, you must be careful to devote yourself to worthwhile reforms. You always had a clearer way of putting things, George.

Starting point is 06:43:41 She despised him. He could feel it now. He looked at her and wondered again. She was beautiful. a complete change had come over her since he'd come in she seemed warm with emotion alive human but she smiled in an offensive way he preferred her viciousness that was impersonal something queer in her head this other was a condescension that angered him he sat thinking she was playing with him it would be better if he never saw her How is Henrietta? she asked. The question had long ago become an invitation to confession.

Starting point is 06:44:27 He avoided her eyes. Fanny and Aubrey were over, he answered. She interrupted. Please, don't talk about them. Oh, nothing in particular, he hastened. Henrietta is the same as ever. Doris laughed. An ideal wife for a future public hero.

Starting point is 06:44:49 she exclaimed. Bazine frowned. I'd rather you didn't make a joke about such things, Doris. I'm not joking, but to be a great leader, a man must have only one love, the love of being a great leader. That's wrong,

Starting point is 06:45:09 Bazine blurted out. A woman can help a man forward if he loves her, and she's clever and loves him. She can't, Dora said, softly, because she doesn't want to. If she loves him, she doesn't want him to be great. She may inspire him, but just as soon as she sees his inspiration takes him away from her, she turns around and tries to ruin him, so she can have him to herself. Bazine listened impatiently.

Starting point is 06:45:41 This was a child prattling. Doris was laughing. He looked at her questioningly. Her laughter continued and grew harsh. You fool, she sighed, controlling herself. Oh, you fool! Bazine shook his head. He was serious. There were hidden facts in his mind.

Starting point is 06:46:06 He knew something about what a woman might do to help a man forward. These facts seem to him allies, secret allies, as he contradicted his sister. i insist you're wrong he said he was determined to prove her wrong but she went on ignoring his intensity your wife is ideal george colorless stupid dead without desires or egoism an ideal wife for a man of ambition the kind that will let you alone nonsense you're utterly wrong he cried he must prove to her how utterly wrong she was there was ruth men owe most of their success to the impulse the right woman can give them henrietta's all right but she's so damned dead she's interested in nothing just a child with a child's mind and outlook and she gets more so every year good god if i had somebody with life in her keen and who who loved me, so that I wanted to be great in her eyes. It would be easier.

Starting point is 06:47:24 Somebody like you, Doris. He paused, confused. I mean, he added, your type, the intellectual and female combined. He had long ago told her of his courtship, of the curious way he had tricked himself into matrimony, and she had always laughed at his unhappiness and said this. only a fool tricked himself as he had done nevertheless his marriage was ideal men instinctively pick out what they need she would say and a man like you needs a nonentity like henrietta you wait and see your happiness isn't coming from emotion inside but from emotion outside the noise of praise the public will some day give you

Starting point is 06:48:16 but there were facts now hidden in his head to disprove this he started as doris announced casually ruth davis may drop in this afternoon they finished their tea a knock on the door frightened him the girl no doris called come in and levin entered bazin nodded to him I'll have to be going, he said as Levine sat down. He disliked the man. Doris nodded. She appeared to have lost interest in him, and her tea finished. She was sitting back in her chair, with her eyes half shut, and her hands listless in her lap. Levine was talking quietly.

Starting point is 06:49:07 You look tired, Doris. Like to go hear Lindstrom lecture tonight? No? Very well. I just dropped in to see if you would. Come on. No, she frowned at him. I'm sorry. Why? I think it would be better for you to... Her eyes shut him off. They were blazing.

Starting point is 06:49:35 Please, she cried. Then, with a sigh, she turned toward the window. Bazine stood up. he pretended a leisureliness opening a few books and staring with apparent interest at passages in them levin and his sister were a strange pair doris queer and moody and going into impossible tantrums and this man with brown negro eyes and a loose-lipped mouth that reeked with sarcasms there were secrets between them nothing wrong but secrets He remembered the girl was coming and grew frightened. Well, good-bye, he said aloud. And calm down, Doris.

Starting point is 06:50:23 He waited uncomfortably for her to say something, but she was silent. He looked at his watch and exclaimed in a surprised, Matter-of-fact voice, Oh, my, it's almost four. Goodbye, I must run. He hurried away as if some logical, necessity were spurring him on. The make-believe had been unnecessary, for Doris had paid no

Starting point is 06:50:49 attention to the manner of his departure. Outside, he paused and looked up and down the street. He felt relieved. He had left in time. Crossing from an opposite corner was Ruth Davis. He would pretend he hadn't seen her and walk on in an opposite direction. He knew she was watching him as approached. He was frightened. A sense of suffocation. He desired to run away. She was young. Her eyes had a way of remaining in his thought. When he talked to people, her eyes came before him and looked at him. They asked questions. The last time he had sat with her in his sister's studio, he had gone away with a feeling of panic. He was used to women, invariably. he disliked them. They seemed to him variance of his wife. They reminded him of Henrietta, and he was

Starting point is 06:51:50 able to say to himself, They look attractive and mysterious, but underneath, they're all alike. He meant they were all like Henrietta. In this way, his distaste for his wife had kept him faithful to her, because his imagination balked at the idea of embracing another Henrietta. but ruth davis after he had met her a few times always in his sister's presence had impressed him differently perhaps it was because he had always seen her with his sister in many ways she reminded him of doris she was dark like doris and had many of her mannerisms he had not thought of her as a variant of henrietta rather as a variant of doris he had never tested his immunity to her by imagining an embrace when he talked to her he grew eager to impress her he wanted her to understand him not quite as doris understood him she was cynical but not in the way doris was her mind was kindlier because he felt frightened now at her approach and had desired to run away without speaking to her he held himself to the spot he would get the better of this thing he told himself quickly by facing whatever it was and fighting it down he would overcome the curious effect she had on him by confronting her

Starting point is 06:53:22 in this way a very high-minded way he persuaded himself to wait for her and talk to her which was what he wanted to do above everything else she was pleased they shook hands the confusion left him he was quite quite master of himself. Her dark eyes were not dangerous like his sisters. She was a bright, pretty girl. I'm sorry I can't visit with you and Doris, he said, but I have an engagement. Oh, she seemed disappointed. Her eyes betrayed almost a hurt. This made him even more master of himself. He had been foolishly worried about the girl, just to be a little bit more. Just a little bit more master of himself. He had been foolishly worried about the girl, just a bright, pretty girl and a friend of his sister. "'By the way,' he said, "'you were saying the other day that you'd like a job in the state attorney's office.

Starting point is 06:54:21 "'My secretaries quit. Would you like that?' "'Oh, Mr. Bazine, that's awfully kind of you. "'But I don't know shorthand, and I suppose that—' "'That makes no difference,' he smiled tolerantly. I need somebody able to look after things in general. If you want the job, why come down and see me tomorrow morning, about ten, and we'll start work? I'd be delighted, she answered. She was about to say more, but he grew curt.

Starting point is 06:54:56 You'll excuse me, won't you? I have to run, he said. See you at ten tomorrow, eh? He wanted to make the thing certain, because otherwise, he would have to hire someone else. At ten then, he repeated. If you really want me? I think you'll get along all right, and I need somebody at once.

Starting point is 06:55:21 He walked away with a feeling of mastery. He had overcome the confusion the sight of her had started in him. He was sincerely glad of that. He disliked the idea of entanglements. Politics was a glass, house, and entanglements were dangerous. Then, besides, there was Henrietta. His fidelity to his wife was a habit that had become almost an obsession. His distaste and frequent revulsion toward her made him concentrate excitedly upon the idea of fidelity. By assuring himself of the nobility of

Starting point is 06:56:01 faithfulness and of its necessity as a matter of high decency, he vindicated in a measure of the fact that he seemed too cowardly to philander. He had felt this cowardliness, and was continually trying to distort it into more self-enobling emotions. This was what made him so excited a champion of domestic felicity, marital fidelity, and kindred ideas.

Starting point is 06:56:28 He was able to convert himself into a man whose ideals prevented him from succumbing to his lower instincts. Thus, instead of feeling ashamed of the cowardliness which kept him from doing what he desired, he felt, on the contrary, proud of his capacity for living up to his high ideals, which meant of doing what he didn't want to do. This cowardliness was an involved emotion. It was inspired by a fear of detection, if he philandered,

Starting point is 06:57:00 a fear of physical and social consequences. But more than that, and too curious for his thought to unravel, it was inspired by a fear of hurting Henrietta. This fear was the predominant factor in his life. He sought at times to understand it, but its understanding eluded him. He had been tempted at times to talk to Doris about it, but as yet it was a confession withheld.

Starting point is 06:57:30 The greater his distaste for his wife became, and the more the thought of her grew obnoxious the deeper did this fear of hurting her take form in him often when driven to anger by her increasing stupidity he would lie awake at night by her side thinking of her in accidents which might kill her he would lie awake picturing her brought home dying and going over in his fancy the details of her death scene and then as if the thing were too sweet to relinquish He would go over in his mind the details of the funeral, picturing himself beside the grave, weeping, picturing her father and the numerous mourners, giving them words to say and assigning them little parts in the drama of the burial. The thing would become a completely worked-out scene,

Starting point is 06:58:22 like a careful description in a novel. Then he would picture himself returning home with his children. He would close his eyes and play with the fancy, impersonally, as if he were dictating it for writing. Back from the grave with his children, the house empty of Henrietta, the chair in which she always sat and sewed, empty, and she would never sit there again. The chair would always be empty. At this point his fancy would grow sad. At first, the sadness would be as if it were part of the make-believe, as if this fiction figure of himself were mourning the death of his wife.

Starting point is 06:59:06 But gradually the sadness would change and become real. It would become a sadness inspired by the thought of her dying, sometime. Someday she would be dead, and he would be alone, and this idea would grow unbearable, just as it had been deliciously desirable a few minutes before. The sadness that came to him then was no more than a remorse he felt for having in his fancy, planned, and executed her death. A remorse inspired by his feeling of guilt. But to Bazine, it seemed a sadness inspired by some inner love for his wife. It would surprise him that there was an inner love, and he would lie and think, Oh, I don't want her dead. I love her. I love her. I love. poor dear Henrietta!

Starting point is 07:00:00 And he would reach over and caress her tenderly, tears filling his eyes. It was at such moments while doing penance for the imaginative murder of his wife that a physical passion for her would come to him. His caresses would grow warmer, and in the possession of her which followed, he would be able to blot out of his memory the unbearable self-accusation aroused by his desire for her to. death. Thus, his fear of hurting her, even of contradicting her in any way which would make her

Starting point is 07:00:33 unhappy, was a device which guarded him against contemplating the impulse concealed in him, to get rid of her, even by murdering her. His fidelity to his wife, inspired more by this fear of hurting her than by the social cowardice, which involved the idea of detection, had become a fetish with him. The less he desired her, and the more repugnant she grew for him, the more desperately he defended to himself and to others the virtues of marital faithfulness. He had advanced, in eight years,

Starting point is 07:01:10 into an intolerant champion of morality. Even his political orations bristled with panegyrics on the sanctity of the home and the high-duty men owed their wives. the thing repeated itself over and over in his day haunted his night and filtered through all his public and private actions it had formed the basis of a new bazine the moral champion it had colored his ambitions and determined his direction of thought it hammered a hidden psychological refrain through the fibers of his thought in order to reconcile himself to the distasteful role he had foisted his upon himself by accidentally embracing henrietta in his mother's kitchen nine years ago he must eulogize his predicament and convince himself and others that all deviations were a vicious and dishonorable matter held by neither love nor desire to the side of a woman he had tricked himself into marrying he managed to bind himself to her by the stern worship of a code which proclaimed fidelity the high highest manifestation of the soul.

Starting point is 07:02:26 As he walked toward a streetcar, he was proud of his self-conquest. He was thinking about the girl, Ruth. He had taken himself in hand and overcome the dangerous confusion that the sight of her started. His sense of honor preened itself on the victory. That was the way to handle oneself. Always face the facts. It was better than hiding one's sense. head in the sand. Look, it had happened this way. By being matter of fact, by converting the

Starting point is 07:03:00 girl from a luring enigmatic figure into an employee, he had established an immunity in himself. Was he certain of this? Yes, she would be merely another of the young women employed in his office. And he was in love with none of them, or even interested. So their relation would be that of employee and employer, which was harmless and honorable. He walked along, piling up assurances. As he entered the car, he was going over in his mind, with an imaginative eagerness, the details of the situation he had created. He would be very stern, aloof.

Starting point is 07:03:44 He would acquaint her with his secret files, and gradually educate her into an efficient assistant. She was a university girl. Of course, her running around with freaks the way she did, artists and talky women, was a handicap. But she would get over that and become entirely sensible. It was a pleasant daydream that whiled away the tedium of the ride home. An unaccountable happiness played around the fancies in his mind. He gave himself to its warmth with a certain defiance,

Starting point is 07:04:19 as if he were denying unbidden doubts underlying his dreams. he had hired ruth davis in order that he might be near her and underlying the enthusiastic assurances which he crowded into his mind as a stopgap for the elation this fact inspired was the knowledge that as his secretary she would come to perceive what a great man he was his files his secret memoranda his intricate activities all of which she would come to know as his private secretary would be a boast yes his very curtness sternness preoccupation would all be part of this boast she would see him as a man of importance a man of rising power he would have to ignore her in order to confer with well-known men politicians police officials party leaders, and this ignoring of her would be a boast, all a boast of his prestige, and of the fact that he was a man of fascinating activities, and that these activities made it impossible for him to devote himself, as other lesser men might, to paying her any attention. Yes, the thought of her being in his office where he might look at her,

Starting point is 07:05:39 but more especially where she might look at him, for he did not intend to her, to pay any attention to her, thrilled him. And gradually, the cause of his elation protruded, and he was forced to face it. He alighted from the car, thinking as he walked toward his apartment. I'll have to be careful, though. I don't want her to fall in love. That would be embarrassing. Girls are susceptible. I'll not encourage her in anything like that. Be business-like, and aloof. treat her absolutely as a stranger this idea thrilled him further it would be sweet to ignore her even to be strict with her and carping at times to scold for some error yes that was the right way to handle the situation and he walked on with a childish smile over his face he had determined upon a high-minded course which absolved him from all blame in anything that might happen aloofness sternness now that they were going to be together every day he already looked upon her position as his secretary as an inevitable predicament not brought on by any action of his

Starting point is 07:06:58 now that they were to be that close he would rigorously observe all the conventions at the same time he was inwardly aware that such a course as he had mapped for himself would unquestionably have a certain effect upon the girl it must it would cause her to respect and admire him and finally to fall in love with him tremendously in love since there would be no outlet for her passion oh yes that would certainly happen but it wouldn't be his fault and nothing would come of it because he would remain sternly aloof the thought of being worshipped from afar of being looked upon all day by eyes that adored him brought an excitement into his step and he ran up the stairs to his apartment he was eager to enter his home and greet his wife she had become suddenly a tolerable person one whose presence he might even enjoy he felt happy and he wanted her to share his happiness end of chapter thirteen recording by roger maline chapter fourteen of gargoyles this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline gargoyles by ben hecht chapter fourteen Fanny listened carelessly to her husband. After eight years, listening to what Aubrey had to say

Starting point is 07:08:48 had become unnecessary, because his talk never changed. What he said yesterday, he would say tomorrow. He prided himself on this. He explained that it revealed him a man of unswerving principles. Fanny, who had become a rather sarcastic person, kept her answer to herself. a man of unswerving principles was a great asset to the community but a terrible bore to his home she sat watching henrietta so there was a placidity about henrietta that always irritated her henrietta was still pretty although beginning to fade her eyes were colorless and her lips were getting thinner but she seemed happy and fanny wondered about this

Starting point is 07:09:38 mr mackay seemed very attentive to henrietta of course mr mackay was aubrey's partner and a friend of her brother george but it was odd to call on henrietta unexpectedly and find her talking alone to a man in her library even to mr mackay fanny was suspicious about such things she had been utterly faithful to aubrey during their married life and this fidelity somehow had developed to-augh had developed in her an attitude of chronic suspicion concerning the fidelity of other women it was her habit when visiting her friends to sit and speculate upon their possible immoralities she had frequently got herself into trouble by setting scandalous rumors afloat henry thorpe and gwendolen see quite a great deal of each other she would say more than we know i think i wonder what mrs thorpe thinks about it you know gwendolen for all her pretences is an out-and-out sensual type no one was immune from fanny's speculations in fact the more incongruous the idea of any one's sinfulness seemed the more enthusiastically fanny embraced it she was more than half aware that thinking about others in immoral situations seemed to excite herself she would endeavor to introduce a note of indignation into her speculations but the note was too forced to deceive her, although it deceived others, and she finally abandoned herself to the thrill which, thinking evilly of others, stirred in her.

Starting point is 07:11:19 She would often allow her suspicions to become detailed. Merely to suspect a woman of being immoral was not as satisfying as to figure the manner of her sin, the play-by-play, word-by-word drama of her seduction. She relished such fancy details. Suspecting others of immorality enabled Fanny to enjoy vicariously situations which she had as a matter of course denied herself. Her love for Aubrey had not changed.

Starting point is 07:11:53 It had, in fact, grown, or at least become inflated by habit. At the beginning of their union, she had suspected him of being a hypocrite. She had immediately resented his virtue. Then, for a short time, she had figured out that he must be unfaithful to her, that this accounted for his virtue. But her resentment had remained mute.

Starting point is 07:12:19 The years had proved to her, as much as proof was possible, that Aubrey was no hypocrite, and that his attitude toward such things was due to his being a high-minded, decent man. He loved her. but in his own way. He explained to her, Most marriages are ruined because people are led astray by sex. Sex is a duty.

Starting point is 07:12:45 I don't think it's any more moral for married people to wallow in sex than it is for unmarried people. Sex has an object beyond itself which people ignore. It is a means to an end, children. And they had gone on for eight years, living up to these standards. but they had no children. Fanny was willing to acquiesce in her husband's ideals, since she had to, in everything except about children,

Starting point is 07:13:14 she didn't want any. Fanny had accepted his version of the thing and lived by it. There were some rewards. She managed to derive a dubious satisfaction during their infrequent hours of passion from the knowledge that he was a famous man. She also found a source of secret excitement in his austerity and virtue. The fact that he was so high-minded and aloof, from any thought of sex,

Starting point is 07:13:43 offered a piquant contrast to occasions when he condescended to be her lover. Such occasions were for Fanny, far from austere and high-minded. She allowed the keen sensuality of her nature free reign. Aubrey's noble attitude served to inspire her with a sense of guilt, as if their relations were really as indecent and immoral as he contended sex to be, and the idea of their being indecent and immoral heightened her enjoyment of them. She wondered at many things about Aubrey. Despite his aversion to sex, she did not think of it as an aversion, but as a high-mindedness,

Starting point is 07:14:27 he was yet very attentive to women. Not in the way that most men were attentive, but chivalrously. He had become during their married life a veritable Chesterfield and Sir Raleigh. It was not only his manner, his observation of little rules of conduct, such as rising when a woman entered, or helping her on with her wraps, or assisting her to pull up her chair at the table, or opening doors, or any of her, of the thousand niceties that marked his attitude toward women. It was also his ideas. He frequently discussed women and his point of view was more chivalrous than most men's. He said that he believed

Starting point is 07:15:12 in the fineness of women, that a woman was a pure, beautiful soul, and he was quick to resent insults to women, even general insults, which sought to reflect upon women's purity as a whole, or to make her out a scheming sexual animal. Fanny was proud of his chivalrous tone. It distinguished him, and she did not resent the fact that it interested women. She had never been jealous of Aubrey, and she had gradually accustomed herself to his high-mindedness. She would have liked abandoned caresses and embraces,

Starting point is 07:15:49 but these had never been forthcoming, even on their honeymoon long ago, and she had given up dreaming of them for herself. She dreamed about them now in connection with others, and her mind, colored by unsatisfied desires, indulged itself in the luxurious and lascivious details of her suspicions of others. She sat watching Henrietta as Mr. McKay talked to her, and despite an effort to control her thought, she began to wonder what they had been doing alone in the apartment

Starting point is 07:16:23 before she and Aubrey came. He had probably taken her hand and pulled her to him, put his arms around her, and Henrietta, overcome with a sudden passion, had probably flung her arms about his shoulders and given him her lips wildly. And just as they were standing deliriously embraced like that, the bell had probably rung,

Starting point is 07:16:47 and Henrietta had jumped away and grabbed her sewing. She had come to the door with her sewing, in her hand, and Fanny smiled at the colorless and unsuspecting Henrietta. Her sense of humor had done for her what her sense of justice had failed to do. It controlled her fancies. To imagine Henrietta giving her lips wildly to anybody, particularly the red-faced Mr. McKay, was ludicrous. Poor Henrietta, with her two noisy children and her interminable sewing.

Starting point is 07:17:22 She didn't envy her the children. Thank heaven, despite Aubrey's high-minded attitude towards sex as a distasteful mechanism through which the race continued itself, they had had no children. There was something pitiful about Henrietta. She was so dumb. And even when she dressed up and powdered and frilled, she always seemed tired. A stranger might think she was an invalid just recovered from some sense. serious illness. Henrietta was probably like Arbery about those things, very high-minded and aloof.

Starting point is 07:18:01 Mr. McKay and Arbery were talking about advertising now. They always did this sooner or late, and they usually quarreled because Arbery was inclined to insist that his end of the business, the preparation of copy and ad material, was as important as Mr. McKay's end. Mr. McKay was in charge of the salesman. She hadn't wanted to call on her brother, but Aubrey insisted. There was a deal on. The city was going to do a lot of advertising,

Starting point is 07:18:34 and the firm of McKay Gilchrist wanted the job. Bazine could help them pull wires. The bell rang and interrupted their talk. That must be George, Henrietta exclaimed. She grew nervous. and began to flutter. The maid was out for the afternoon, and she went to the door herself.

Starting point is 07:18:57 A strange voice came from the hall as the door opened. Oh, come right in. George isn't home, but I expect him any minute, Henrietta greeted the arrival. Paul Schroeder, one of the attorneys who worked in the mysterious place called the State Attorney's Office, with her husband, entered. He was younger than her husband,

Starting point is 07:19:19 and a type she disliked. She didn't like George to have him as a friend. He was too brutal-looking, and too noisy. Her submission to George had developed a keen set of prejudices in her. She liked only people who reminded her of her husband, normal-sized, thin men with aristocratic manners, and quick nervous eyes. And what she liked in such people was only the parts of them

Starting point is 07:19:48 that seemed like George. All other kinds of men annoyed her, particularly the kind Schroeder was, rough, coarse, and laughing too loudly always. She thought of him as a vulgar animal, and once or twice hinted to George that she didn't like to have him visit the house. Schroeder entered, his blonde, well-shaped head tossing dramatically. The exuberance of his manner gave him the air of being larger than he was. Aubrey Gilchrist, when he straightened up, was taller than Schroeder, and Mr. McKay's shoulders were broader. But somehow the blonde-headed man dwarfed them both as he shook hands with them.

Starting point is 07:20:33 He sat down next to Fanny. "'Well,' he said to her, "'how you been? Bright-eyed as ever!' he laughed, and Fanny smiled. What's the matter with friend-husband? he turned to Henrietta. Can't you keep his knobs home like a god-fearing man on Sundays? Henrietta winced. He went to see his sister, who is ill, she said. He'll be back any minute.

Starting point is 07:21:04 Oh, that's all right, Schroeder answered, as if Henrietta had apologized and he was forgiving her. Then to Aubrey, he added, what are you two pirates after from bazin? Aubrey raised his eyebrows. He was subject to quick dislikes. Schroeder was one of them. Schroeder was the kind of person

Starting point is 07:21:28 who had no respect for merit or his superiors. The world, unfortunately, was full of such people, boars, lacking the intelligence to perceive their betters. Aubrey always felt ill at ease in their presence. although he had written no novels for five years in his own mind he was still a literary figure of importance he had gone into the advertising business but not permanently he had intended at first remaining in it only for a year and then returning to his writing he wanted to do a different sort of writing and a vacation was necessary he wanted to do something real he had as a matter of fact lost interest in the business of turning out narratives. Worried at the time, by this loss of interest in his work,

Starting point is 07:22:22 he had explained it as an ambition for better things. But five years had passed, and he was still an advertising man. The firm of McKay and Gilchrist had grown. He flattered himself that its success had been due to his personal prestige. People said, Oh, that's Aubrey Gilchrist, the wrong. writer. Well, that's quite an asset for an advertising concern. And so they brought their business to McKay Gilchrist. He disliked Schroeder because on the few occasions they had met, the man had exuberantly

Starting point is 07:22:59 ignored the fact he was Aubrey Gilchrist. Schroeder was a man who had no interest in anything outside himself, a noisy, self-satisfied creature with no reason to be noisy or self-satisfied. He had never done anything. I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Schroeder, Arbery answered stiffly. Ho! Ho! Shroder exclaimed. Your husband is insulted, Mrs. Gilchrist. Well, I apologize. There's George. I'll lay you dollars to donuts.

Starting point is 07:23:36 The bell had rung. Bazine entered. Arbery looked significantly at his partner. The significance was due to the fact that Schroeder seemed likely to ruin the visit. Aubrey announced aloud after the greetings. Thought we'd drop in for a private discussion, George. Henrietta was smiling tenderly at her husband. Where have you been, she asked.

Starting point is 07:24:03 Well, I've got great news for you, Bazine exclaimed. The company looked hopefully at him. What, dear? oh i'll tell you to-night little girl if it's good news we'd all like to hear it fanny insisted schroeder regarded his friend askance he suspected something he had left bazin yesterday night and there had been no hint of anything happening and to-day being sunday he smiled to himself covering up he thought husbands are comical He decided not to press Bazine. He had evidently been up to something, playing a matinee. He noticed that his friend was trying to change the subject.

Starting point is 07:24:55 Is it something personal? Henrietta asked with a frown. You frighten me, George, when you don't tell me things. Bazine, sitting down, beamed with enthusiasm on the group, on his home. Where are the children? He asked. Over at the Harvies, Henrietta answered. Well, said her husband with an explosive intonation,

Starting point is 07:25:23 I've made up my mind to go after the circuit court. There's a chance next April. Going to run for judge, eh? Schroeder asked with interest. Yes, sir, Bazine laughed. I just had a session with some of the boys this afternoon, and we discussed it. "'Oh, I thought you were at Doris's,' Henrietta interrupted.

Starting point is 07:25:48 "'I did see her,' Bazine answered, but only for a few seconds. I spent most of the afternoon in conference. "'Congratulations,' Aubrey spoke. Mac and I were going to—' Schroeder stood up. "'What do you say if we take a walk, Mrs. Gilchrist?' he whispered loudly. "'Your husband insists that. I get out, and I won't unless you come along."

Starting point is 07:26:16 He laughed good-naturedly until Aubrey smiled and nodded to his wife. If you wish, Fanny. It's awfully nice outside, Fanny agreed, after a pause during which she looked carefully out of the window. Bazine reached for his wife's hand and drew her toward his chair. You're looking very well, he smiled at her. a pleasant light came to her eyes for a moment the youthfulness that people had once admired when they had called her such an enthusiastic girl returned to her manner oh now george she exclaimed bazin felt a catch in his heart a remorse as if he had done something came over him he patted her hand tenderly henrietta repeated but in an almost colorless voice

Starting point is 07:27:12 Oh, George! Schroeder followed Fanny down the steps. As the door of the bazine apartment closed behind them, his fingers clutched her elbow, and he leaned against her in a straightforward, jovial manner. Her experience as a married woman had brought a directness into Fanny's mind. She no longer found it necessary to conceal her thoughts from herself. She was still inclined to be publicly innocent, but her mental life had taken on the proportions of an endless debauch. Marriage not only legalized sex, but removed the barriers to thinking about it. She felt herself blushing childishly, as Schroeder, squeezing her arm, opened the door with a flourish. End of Chapter 14. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 15 of Gargoyles This Librevox recorded.

Starting point is 07:28:20 is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 15 The Gilchrist home on Lakeshore Drive was crowded with friends and relatives. They had come to the funeral of William Gilchrist. Mr. Gilchrist lay in a coffin in the drawing room, a waxen-faced figure under a glass cover.

Starting point is 07:28:49 Flowers filled the large room with a damp sweet, odor. It was a spring morning. The air was colored with rain. A sulfurous glow lay on the pavements. It was chilly. Automobiles lined the curb outside the Gilchrist's stone house. Polite, sober-faced people arrived in couples and groups and walked seriously up the stone steps of the residence, a swarm of mummers striving awkwardly to register grief. Dignitaries from different strata were assembling. The Gilchrists were a family whose prestige was ramified by varied contacts. Celebrities of the society columns arrived,

Starting point is 07:29:35 famous tea-pourers, tiara-wearers, charity patronesses. Professional men ranging from retired fuddy-duddies, applying their waning financial talents to the diversion of philanthropy, two corporation heads, prominent legal advisors and medical geniuses renowned for their taciturnity. These came for Mrs. Gilchrist. Bankers, merchants, industrial captains, hospital bigwigs. These came as husbands and also as contemporaries of Mr. Gilchrist. The leaders of the city's arts, a sprinkling of painters aping the manners of dapper businessmen,

Starting point is 07:30:18 of authors vastly superior to the bohemian nature of their calling, of advertising Napoleon's, opera followers, national advertisers. These came for Aubrey. Fanny, through her brother, who had a month before been elected a judge, drew a formidable group of names, political factotums, powers behind thrones, mystic local Cromwells. Also the younger set. Added to these were relatives, business associates, and finally the press.

Starting point is 07:30:56 There was a dead man under a glass cover in the house, and the distinguished company, crowding the large somber rooms of the Gilchrist home, eyed each other gravely and addressed each other in whispers. The dead man could not hear, yet they spoke in whispers. Even the most renowned of the dignitaries, whose lives were around to the people, of formalities, almost as impressive as this, spoke in whispers and seemed ill at ease. They drifted about like nervous butlers and took up positions against the walls, striking uncertain attitudes. They exchanged polite and somber greetings, and felt slightly strengthened in spirit at the sight of people as distinguished as themselves. The camaraderie of prestige,

Starting point is 07:31:46 the social caress which celebrities alone are able to bestow upon each other by basking in a mutual feeling of superiority ran like an undercurrent through the scene yet this camaraderie which usually heightened the poise of such gatherings was unable to remove the embarrassment of the company they spoke in whispers and remained outsiders as if the gilchrists were a family of intimidating superiors in whose presence one didn't quite know what to do with one's arms or feet, or what to say, or just how to make one's features look. The intimidating superiority was the body under the glass cover of the coffin. It would have been easier in a church. Funerals were much less of a strain in a church, and there were several whispers to this effect. Why had Mrs. Gilchrist insisted upon a home-bush?

Starting point is 07:32:46 funeral. Wasn't it rather old-fashioned? Here in a house, death seemed uncomfortably personal. The stage was too small, and the mourners were too near something. A curious sympathy that had nothing to do with Mr. Gilchrist took possession of them. The damp sweet odor of the flowers, the glimpse of the black coffin, the sound of softly moving feet and whispering tongues, were a distressing ensemble. The mourners drifted around and nodded nervously at each other, as if they were doing all they could

Starting point is 07:33:26 to make the best of a faux pa. Death was a foe pa, a reality without adjectives, a stark, mannerless lie. The family had done its best also. Flowers had been heaped, furniture arranged, the body dressed,

Starting point is 07:33:45 a luxurious, coffin purchased, great people invited. Nevertheless, the waxen-faced one under the glass cover refused to yield its reality. It lay stark and mannerless in the large room, the immemorial skeleton at the feast, repeating the dreadful word death with an almost humorous persistency amid the heaped flowers, the carved furniture, the mourners with raised eyebrows. They stood about nervously. Gilchrist had been a man alive, one of those whose names were known to the world. The name Gilchrist had meant a large building stored with rugs, period furniture,

Starting point is 07:34:31 innumerable clerks, departments, delivery trucks, advertisements in newspapers and on fences. The man Gilchrist had been one with whom the dignitaries of the city had shared the intimacy of prestige. They had said Gilchrist's was a fine store. Gilchrist's was marvellous furniture. Gilchrist was a highly successful businessman. Gilchrist was this and that and the other. And here lay Gilchrist, waxen and unscrupulously silent, under a glass cover. A little man with pale sideburns that were now doubly useless. In a black suit, and his hands folded over his chest. Here lay Gilchrist dead,

Starting point is 07:35:21 and yet the things that had been called Gilchrist still lived. As if immortality was an artifice superior to life. The furniture store, the furniture, the clerks, trucks, trucks, advertisements, the highly successful business, all these still lived. And this was an uncomfortable fact. It embarrassed the mourners.

Starting point is 07:35:47 They drifted about with uncertainty. Like Gilchrist, they were men and women whose names were synonymous with great activities. Like Gilchrist, they were considered as the inspiration of these activities. In fact, the activities were an artificial symbol of themselves, a sort of photograph of themselves. Yet, like Gilchrist, all of them would lie in. under a glass cover someday, and nothing would be changed. The activities that everybody called by their names would still live, as if they had nothing to do with them. As if these symbols were the life of the city, and not the men and women whom they symbolized. Yes, as if these activities which

Starting point is 07:36:36 represented their prestige were independent individualities, masks which loaned themselves for a few years to them to wear, and which they took off when they lay stretched under a glass cover, which they would take off and become anonymous. For who was this waxen-faced man in the coffin? Nobody knew. They had called him Gilchrist, but Gilchrist was clerks, advertisements, furniture, and business. This man in the coffin was someone else, an irritating imposter that reminded them, they were all impostors.

Starting point is 07:37:17 Death was a confession everyone must make, an incongruous confession, an ending to something that had no ending. Life and its activities, even the activities that bore the name Gilchrist, went on. Yet Gilchrist had, mysteriously, come to an end. He lay in a coffin, while his name in large letters talked to other names. in the advertisements of the city. The camaraderie of prestige was insufficient to remove this embarrassment. A dead man under a glass cover spoke to them slyly. Dinners, even very formal dinners with butlers.

Starting point is 07:38:03 Clicks, even powerful clicks wielding financial destinies. Ambitions, Board of Directors' meetings, investments and reinvestments, hopes and successes. Ah, these were deceptive little excitements that were not a part of life, but an artifice superior to life, for life ended, and the little excitements went on. They were the surface immortality in which one conveniently forgot the underlying fact of death. Alas, death! Alas, waxen-faced men lying silent and mannerless under glass, last covers. A distasteful faux pa, death. Yet some of the company must weep. Not friends who regretted the everlasting absence of William Gilchrist, but men and women bewildered for a moment by the memory

Starting point is 07:39:00 of their own death. Death was a memory since it existed like a foregone conclusion. It was sad to think of all the people who had died, laughing ones, famous ones, adventurous ones whose laughter, fame, and adventure, seemed somehow a lie now that they were dead. It was so easy to be dead. Death had come to all who had been, even to more dignified and celebrated ones than they. Alas, death! The sober men and women in the Gilchrist home drifted about nervous. They must weep because for the moment they lay in the coffin with Mr. Gilchrist, and because for the moment they walked sadly about mourning visions of their own deaths, and for the moment their tears earned for themselves the regard of their fellow mourners

Starting point is 07:39:58 as kind-hearted, sensitive, unselfish souls. Yet there was something intimate among the company. Despite the embarrassment, a very much of the company, a curious spirit of friendliness underlay the scene men and women who knew each other only as aloof symbols of prestige stood together and talked in whispers as if they were talking out of character half strangers felt a familiarity toward each other under the stamp of a common emotion and a common embarrassment the company became for the time a collection of intimates looking at one another and whispering among themselves as if the event were a truce this was a funeral here was reality and it was polite to lay aside for an hour the masks the complexities of artifice by which they baffled and impressed each other the reverend henry peyton had arrived and the mourners moved into the spacious library grateful for a destination the widow in black with her son and daughter-in-law appeared the company surveyed them with a thrill of vicarious grief poor mrs gilchrist so strong and competent

Starting point is 07:41:23 it seemed almost impossible that she would lose anything even something as mortal as a husband she was so fixed and determined even now there was something sternly competent about her grief it was hidden under a black veil there was nothing to be seen of it but a black veil and a black dress and a pair of wrinkled little hands fumbling with themselves poor mrs gilchrist people had forgotten she was a woman they felt slightly ashamed as they glanced at her now as if they were intruding upon a secret but she had invited them a suppressed ah of sympathy murmured through the room the minister's words began and a determined hush followed bazin sitting in a corner of the room with his mother had spent an uncomfortable hour waiting for the services he had looked at the body and come away depressed his quick eyes had observed the company and noted with a concealed smile the manner in which lesser dignitaries were making hay while the tears poured they were utilizing the camaraderie of prestige and the intimacy of a common emotion to impress themselves upon the greater dignitaries women of dubious social standing gravitated as if by general accident toward women of solid social standing and exchanged whispered condolences with them men of lesser financial ratings were edging toward leaders of finance and engaging them in dolorous conversations under the depression and gentle bewilderment the everlasting business of inferior pursuing superior and superior and superior increasing his superiority by resistance

Starting point is 07:43:25 pursuit was going on. The death of poor Gilchrist seemed to Bazine, for a few minutes, chiefly important as an opportunity by which lesser mourners were introducing themselves to the attention of greater mourners. Bazzine's eyes noticed another undercurrent. He had himself influenced Fanny to prevail upon Mrs. Gilchrist to invite a number of politicians to the funeral. He had furnished the names carefully, telling Fanny that these were men high in power who had been friends of Mr. Gilchrist. The widow, through her secretary, had asked ten of the list to honor her husband's funeral with their presence. She had chosen ten names most familiar to her, among them men of wealth who were renowned as powers behind the various political thrones of the day. The invitations had served Bazine to make a slight but important impression upon the political party leaders.

Starting point is 07:44:31 He had at first felt nervous over Mrs. Gilchrist's selections from the list. She had picked ten men, most of whom were engaged in tenacious political antagonisms. He watched now with surprise, as the antagonists gravitated together, forming, with a number of financiers, an amiable, dignified group. In the presence of death they seem inclined to bury the hatchet, he thought, and the idea of large funerals as an asset for establishing political harmony developed in his mind. He noticed a change in his own attitude toward Aubrey. He had felt for years a distaste for the man,

Starting point is 07:45:17 and although their relations had always been amicable, this distaste had increased to a point where Bazine would have felt a relief at the man's death. He could never tell himself why he disliked Aubrey, but the aversion was of long-standing. I don't like his looks, he would grin to himself. Now, watching him take his seat beside his mother, Aubrey became somehow human, and Bazine felt he understood the man for the first time. Beneath people whose looks you didn't like was always something human. People were all alike, no matter how they strutted or posed.

Starting point is 07:46:03 Underneath was a loneliness, a little crippled lightness of themselves that they carried about with them all the time. Bazin would have liked to talk to him and say something like, Sorry, old man, I didn't know. I'm sorry. the minister had begun he stood beside the coffin that had been brought in his opening words startled bazin a prayer there was something fantastic in the spectacle of this living man standing beside the dead man and talking aloud to someone who was not in the room talking solemnly intensely to god as if he had buttonholed him bazin felt irritated by his own emotions his face assumed a devout air but the emotions and the thoughts which rose from them persisted behind his determined piety he wanted to immerse himself in the spirit of the man praying but his eyes played truant they wandered furtively and observed with uncomfortable precision the bowed head of henrietta and the spring hat on her head

Starting point is 07:47:18 and the heavy jowled face of her father, belligerently reverent beside her. The minister's voice shouted, God in heaven, his heavenly soul, his heavenly reward. Phrases like these detached themselves and lingered in Bazine's ears. He had heard them frequently in church, but for the moment they seemed preposterously new. He found himself listening in surprise. Religion had always been an accepted idea to him,

Starting point is 07:47:55 something you believed in as you believed in the necessity of neckties. But though he accepted it and felt a casual faith in an Episcopalian god, it remained an idea apart from reality. He had never given either thought or emotion to religion, yet he had frequently expended a great deal of mental effort and emotion denouncing people whom he sensed or observed were opposed to religion. It struck him now as a childish farce, an absurd hocus pocus. Poor Gilchrist going to heaven and a long-faced man in a black coat speeding his soul heavenward from the Gilchrist Library. If there was a God, for whom was all this necessary, the flowers, speeches, prayers.

Starting point is 07:48:49 Not for God, but for the people in the room, of course. People crowded in a tiny room, taking this opportunity to assure each other that the immensities over their heads, the clouds, stars, and spaces, were their property. His iconoclasm increased as if inspired. by the length of the minister's harangue. He grew angry with himself, and thought of Doris, and immediately transferred his anger to her. It was she who was deriding the solemnity of the scene. He had been paying too much attention to her almost insane chatter, and things were somewhat undermined in his own soul. Her fault! The prayer ended, and four men came forward and began to

Starting point is 07:49:40 sing. Their voices, raised in a hymn, annoyed him instantly. This was too much. What were they singing for? As if their songs would help poor Gilchrist mount from the library into heaven. The entire scene, the bowed heads, sad faces, elaborate coffin, the flowers, the worthy reverend and the singers came to his mind as something terribly unconvincing. feudal that was it children making an unconvincing pretense he tried to blot out his thinking and fastened his will upon thoughts that might make him sad properly sad and believing what if henrietta should die henrietta dead henrietta gone forever he seized the thought eagerly it was not what he wanted but there was a wretch's a wretched relish in thinking it. Sad, sad.

Starting point is 07:50:44 Yes, if his mother should die, or somebody dear to him. Who? Ruth. Ah, what if it were Ruth in the coffin, instead of anybody else? He would feel differently then. Her beautiful face, white as Gilchrist's, and her arm still. Her fingers rigid. Ruth did.

Starting point is 07:51:10 dead. This made him sad, but it took his mind entirely from the scene. He forgot for moments that Gilchrist was dead, and this was a funeral. The reality returned, however, with an increased vividness to its absurdity. The music of the hymn rose with embarrassing frankness. Poor little people gathered in a room going through a hocus-pocus to convince themselves, that there was a heaven where they would live forever after the misfortune of death. Like children playing with dolls and pretending. But how did he happen to be thinking like that? Did he believe there was no God, no heaven, no afterlife?

Starting point is 07:51:59 No, he believed in all that firmly. Of course, one must believe. The self-questioning had shocked him back into a state of grace. yes he believed firmly and bowed his head to the hymn that was ending during the rest of the services he was inwardly silent the scene appeared to have slipped into focus again the minister seemed no longer a symbol of some childish hocus pocus but an ambassador of god a stern man closely in touch with the mysteries and there was something awesome in the room there was something awesome about the coffin and the flowers and the voices of the singers trailing into an amen it was god yes a great all-powerful being to whose hands mankind returned the discomfort of doubt left bazin and he felt himself again an integral part of something vaster than himself his thought re-entered the idea of religion and a sense of peace filled him he said amen twice and looked with mute believing eyes at the black coffin

Starting point is 07:53:18 the mourners were following the six silk-hatted pallbearers into the street a drizzle over the pavements a long line of motors chauffeurs waiting looking as aloof and aristocratic in their servitude as their employers bazin found himself beside milton ware one of the big traction officials of the city a gray-haired man with a well-preserved face stamped with certainties and stern affabilities bazin thought casually that ware had seemed rather friendly he had come over to exchange remarks several times while waiting for the services to begin on the curb bazin looked around for his own for Henrietta. Judge Smith had brought his machine, and they were to drive into the cemetery together. Are you with anyone? Ware asked quietly. Yes, I'm looking for my party, Bazine answered. He spied the judge and Henrietta crowded into their car. Several others had entered with them. Where followed his eye.

Starting point is 07:54:34 That looks rather full. he suggested. If you don't mind, would you take a place in my machine? Bazine nodded. Thank you. I'll just talk to them a minute, then. He returned from his father-in-law's automobile and entered with Ware.

Starting point is 07:54:54 The chauffeur started off, and Bazine leaned back in his seat. He wondered at Ware's hospitality. The man was one of the outstanding powers of the city, incredibly ramified through banks and corporations and public utilities he wondered what his connection with gilchrist had been the traction baron a title given him by the newspapers sat in silence beside him as the procession got under way bazin's curiosity began to answer itself he found himself vaguely on his guard i hadn't intended going to the cemetery where announced after they had been riding a few minutes i don't believe much in such demonstrations neither do i bazin answered he was wondering if it were possible to escape his duty to the family there was such a crowd he might not be missed at the grave would you mind if we turned out at one of these streets and drove to the club ware asked deferentially bazin hesitated he had noticed the invitation in the remark where whom he had only met once before was inviting him to the club why a desire to attach himself to where abruptly edited his doubts concerning the propriety of his absence

Starting point is 07:56:27 ah just as soon he answered the chauffeur was given directions the remainder of the ride was passed in silence i thought we might have lunch here ware explained as they seated themselves in front of a window overlooking the boulevard it was raining the empty street gleamed and darkened with rain most of the forenoon is gone anyway where added have you an engagement thanks i haven't bazin answered they sat sipping at highballs a servant had brought bazin watched the rain and a figure scurrying past below the window about this time they were lowering gilchrist into the ground no one would ever see his face again pretty sad about gilchrist ware murmured as if aware of his thought bazin's attention returned to the traction baron the man wanted something or why should he seek him out an anger came into his mind who was this man where that he could pick him up and cart him to a club and buy him a high ball and express to impress him bzine and for what reason the man wanted something the idea had become a conviction he sensed it now through the memories of the morning ware had led up to it dexterously a nod at first later a few remarks about the weather finally an invitation to ride with him to the cemetery

Starting point is 07:58:15 where had never intended going there that had been a ruse to kidnap him bazin frowned well he was kidnapped and he would find out why find out directly where was looking at him with a smile bazin saw something in the smile that increased his anger a sudden wave of emotion as if he were going to strike the man compelled his thoughts out of him. He heard himself talking in a precise, indignant voice and regretted it at once. But the words continued. "'You're a rather busy man, Mr. Ware, and so am I. What did you want to ask me?' Ware nodded slowly and thrust out his lower lip. "'Exactly,' he murmured. "'I wanted to speak to you about something.' well he paused on the word but where remained silent he would have liked to out-silence the traction official but after a pause a nervousness possessed him

Starting point is 07:59:29 well let's begin now he said what is it you want he felt the crudity of his question and winced inwardly but the thing was said he would follow through in that tone then. He tightened his features and leaned back in his chair, his eyes deliberately on the face of his host. He had embarrassed where. He could sense that through the man's poise. His poise was only a stall. Well and good. There was nothing for him, Bazine, to be embarrassed about. He felt elated, after all, with the way he had handled the thing. I want to talk to you about a rather delicate matter, where began. Bazine nodded. He held the trumps.

Starting point is 08:00:24 He had only to sit back, and this traction baron would begin to mumble. His celebrated poise would begin to disintegrate. I'll be as direct as you, Judge, he continued. I see that you don't like beating around the bush. Neither do I. but I didn't know. As I said, the thing is a rather delicate matter, and I want you to take my word for it

Starting point is 08:00:51 that whatever you say in a way of reply will in no way change my opinion of you. It's a thing to be said and then forgotten, if necessary, by both of us. Do you agree? Bazine nodded. It's about the hill case, Ware lowered his voice.

Starting point is 08:01:13 The Hill case? Bazine stared. On your calendar, Judge. The violinist suing for $50,000, hurt by falling off a street car. I thought you knew the case. I remember it now, Mr. Ware. Well, the man hasn't a case at all,

Starting point is 08:01:37 but it's a jury trial, and, of course, juries sometimes think out things in an odd way. Now, what I'm getting at is this. This particular suit doesn't disturb us much, but the anti-traction press is going to give it a great deal of publicity. And what we're interested in is the effect of the suit. You understand? The town is full of cranks and schemers

Starting point is 08:02:07 always trying to get rich by suing some big utility corporation. And if this man, Hill, wins his case, why, it'll mean another hundred cases, all as preposterous as his on our hands? Do you follow me? Bazzine nodded. I told you it was a rather delicate subject, where smiled, and I would never have thought of broaching it if I wasn't sure you would look at it in the light of it. offered, you understand? I don't mean I'm asking a judge to do anything outside the facts, or to go out of his way to hand us anything. That's dishonest and absurd. The thing is, as you'll see for yourself when the case starts, that this man Hill is an imposter trying to hold us up.

Starting point is 08:03:01 We'll prove that to your entire satisfaction. What I'm getting at is that is that the that there's the jury, and you know the attitude of juries these days toward corporations. They hold against us, regardless of evidence. Now, what I'm after is to see we get a fair trial, and it lies in your province to help us. Bazine leaned forward and spoke with difficulty. His anger had grown in him. "'What is it you want me to do?' he asked. where smiled disarmingly nothing at all judge that you wouldn't have done of your own volition i want you if you are convinced such a course as a just one to take the case from the jury and throw it out of court now wait a minute i see you're angry and as i said the matter in a way is rather delicate to talk about but come i'll say frankly i'm interested in you we need men like you quick intelligent and able to see their way the progress of the city depends upon such men you know jennings your attorney

Starting point is 08:04:24 yes in full charge of our legal department there's another case for you of an intelligent quick-witted man scrupulously honest but not an ass six years ago jennings was a judge on the municipal bench wasted utterly wasted to-day bazin interrupted his voice harsioned an analogy i see thanks he stood up up where reached out his hand i don't think you quite understand me he murmured perfectly bazin answered and i've given my word that whatever i understand would be forgotten words welled into bazin's mind an almost uncontrollable impulse to confound his host with a violent denunciation struggled in him he would tell this traction baron what manner of man he bazin was and what the dignity of his position as judge was he would throw the bribe back into the man's teeth he would declaim virtue outrage creatures who sought to use their power to influence justice who thought themselves able to drag men of honor to their level by the promise of favors bazin remained silent his eyes grown lustrous stared at where careful he must be careful not to protest too violently that would sound as if he were uncertain no protest at all a contemptuous silence that was more effective the sort of thing ware would understand too and remember with a deep breath that sent a tremor through his body he nodded good day he said and turning his back abruptly walked out of the club

Starting point is 08:06:32 he frowned at the unctuous bell-boys and door-man still raining bazzieen walked swiftly unaware of destination his mind was filled with emotions indignation grew in him where had offered a bribe there was something in the thing that slowly infuriated him it was an affront an attempt at domination the man had said i'm better than you i can bribe you to do what i want his spirit revolted so that was the way to power eh listening to reason when the bigwig spoke well they could go on speaking till doomsday. But they couldn't talk to him like that and get away with it. The anger slipped from him. He had refused. An elation halted him. He was an honest man. The fact surprised him. He stared with pride at the street. The street held an honest man, a man able to say no to temptation. A tardy appreciation of his righteousness overpowered him. He had something inside him now like a new strength. He could look at men anywhere, any time, and let his eyes tell them who he was

Starting point is 08:08:03 and what sort of man he was, because he was sure of it himself. He was an honest man, and sure of it. It was not only inside him, this certainty, but he felt it like a mantle over his shoulders. He walked on with a vigorous step. An unshaven face paused before him, and a beggar mumbled for a coin. Bazine stopped full. He stopped with deliberation and stared at the unshaven face, at their shifty eyes and dirty linen. The beggar repeated his furtive mumble. No, Bazine answered clearly.

Starting point is 08:08:48 His voice was sharp. The man appeared to wince. He slid away in the rain, his head down. Bazine walked on with an increased elation. He had never been able to do that before, say no decisively to a beggar. He had usually said no, but heart. furtively. That was because he was uncertain of himself. Now he could say no or yes to anyone with decision. He had refused a bribe and was an honest man and did not have to concern himself with what others might think of what he said

Starting point is 08:09:29 because of this conviction in him and because of this mantle in which he was wrapped. He walked in the direction of the county building. the rain felt fresh it was a moral rain a virtuous comrade the incident in the club had in fact given bazin a character he had been unaware of his motives from the moment a sense of impending events had come to him in the traction officials automobile he had when the bribe came acted as if following a lifelong code of ethics yet he had surprised himself his anger his violent emotion of righteousness had been inexplicable to him he had never felt anything like that before bazin in the car had become aware vaguely of what awaited him he had recalled and repressed the recollection instantly the hill-case pending trial before him and under the surface of his thought the entire drama of the bribe had enacted itself in advance where would offer him something yes and where was a man to know one who could be of vital use in his climb. If Ware asked him to do something, it would be wise to do it. He had been eager

Starting point is 08:10:59 for the interview, and a part of his eagerness had been a desire to grant the traction Baron the favor he was going to ask. But the incident had come during a curious crisis in Bazine's life, a crisis that had piled up since his youth. A consciousness had been growing in him of his duplicity. had been aware of it but in a different way during his youth and the early years of his marriage it had not made him uncomfortable then he had been able to lie with a clear conscience ruses by which he established himself in the eyes of others not as he was but as he desired them to think him had seemed to him then the product of a practical superior nature slowly however his poise in the eyes of his poise in the way the face of his own duplicities had begun to crumble. He had begun to feel himself filled with the uncertainties of a man forced to conceal too many things from himself. Fitting his hypocrisies

Starting point is 08:12:05 and lies into worthy necessities had become too complex a business, demanding too much of his energies. The inner situation in which Bazine found himself as he matured had in no way changed his nature, he had gone ahead as always, stumbling finally into a climax of deceits in his relation with the young woman he had hired as his secretary. In the five months she had worked for him, he had been in love with her, but had managed to withhold the fact from both of them. He had invented exhaustless explanations for his interest in her, for his desire to be near her for the increased aversion that had grown in him toward Henrietta and his home. The crisis had accumulated and reached ahead during the services in the Gilchrist home.

Starting point is 08:13:02 Here, his pent-up self-repugnance, his growing impulse to expurgate the duplicities of his life, had found a minor outlet in the sudden religious faith that had possessed him after his half-hour of doubts. where's bribe had come opportunely. Bazine's inexplicable anger on sensing the impending bribe had been his self-answer to the eager desire to comply that had struggled to assert itself in him. And when the man had begun the actual words that meant bribe, he had seized on the situation as a vindication, opportunity to rehabilitate himself, to wipe out with a single, and

Starting point is 08:13:46 gesture the clutter of dishonesties which were beginning to inconvenience him he had embraced it and emerged from the club a man remade no longer an inwardly shifty bazine able to rise to righteousness only by avoiding his memories but a bazine with a platform inside him on which he might stand fearlessly the platform i am honest i refused a bribe, had erected itself over the complex memories of himself. They were obliterated now. He entered his chambers with the serious happiness in his heart. A miracle had happened, and he had been given absolution by himself. End of Chapter 15. Recording by Roger Malene.

Starting point is 08:14:54 Chapter 16 of Gargoyles This Librevox recording is. in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hett. Chapter 16 Ruth Davis was at her desk. She looked up eagerly as he entered. Bazine, hanging up his coat and hat, felt a business-like desire to explain matters to her. He was an honest man, done with subterfuges. He would explain to her that it was no longer possible for her to continue in his employ, use correct but kindly words. He was an honest man.

Starting point is 08:15:37 He wanted to impress himself and everybody else with this fact. Even Ruth. He had no thought of impressing it on Henrietta. Henrietta would only be surprised to hear he was an honest man, because she had always believed it anyway. But he would like to tell Ruth because it would raise her opinion of him, fill her with a great pride. A sad pride, of course, since it meant their separation, but she would go away loving him even more because of his honesty that had put an end to his love for her. The course, however, was impossible. It involved a ludicrous situation, because he had never said he loved her, and she had been as silent as he. And so, telling her all these very fine things would make it necessary for him to say first,

Starting point is 08:16:30 I have loved you, and then to add, But I don't love you anymore. I can't. It was two o'clock. Time for the judge to take his place on the bench. Bazine arose from behind his table with a sense of anticlimax. Nothing had happened. He was going back to his place on the bench again. poor gilchrist lay hidden forever and ware had tried to bribe him and he had proven himself a man of astounding integrity and he had overcome a growing infatuation for ruth davis yet nothing had happened

Starting point is 08:17:10 shall i retype the friday speech judge ruth inquired as he hesitated before her desk he looked at her as if it were difficult to focus his attention on her he was preoccupied a man of many preoccupations who found it hard to notice little things around him oh yes the speech he agreed type it and if there are any mistakes change them to suit yourself he walked out of the chambers ruth turned to her typewriter and prepared to set to work but as the door closed behind bazin she stopped she removed a small mirror from a drawer and studied her face in it. She leaned back in her seat and sighed. She felt too restless to work. With her white brows frowning, she sat looking at the keys of her machine. A miserable restlessness this was that never went away. At night she lay awake in the room she had chosen, since becoming financially independent of her family, and a loneliness nod in her heart. It was because she loved him. Yes, I love him, she repeated to the keys of her machine. He was not like other men.

Starting point is 08:18:34 There was something intimidating about him. He had never spoken to her in a friendly tone. His eyes had never become intimate. During the five months she had been his secretary, he had kept aloof, a strange unbending man consumed with ambition. His ambition was. His ambition was, was an awesome thing. There was a directness to it. He worked day and night, always planning for something. His engagements crowded each other. She hardly knew the man. She knew only an ambition that kept pushing tirelessly forward. There had been no talk between them except business talk, and yet somehow he had given himself to her. Despite his aloofness and the sternness of his manner, she had felt herself coming close to him, closer than to anybody else she had ever known.

Starting point is 08:19:31 And men were no exciting novelty to her. They had held her hand and fumbled around with ambiguous words. They talked art, politics, women, not because they were interested in these things, but because they wanted you to be interested in what they thought of them. She had kept her virginity without difficulty. The half-world of art and jobs enthused her. But it did not stampede. A practical side of her remained dubious about the groping ones she met in the studios.

Starting point is 08:20:05 It was hard to pick out the real ones from the foreflusher's. She had discovered this, because the real ones didn't know they were real. Any more than the foreflusher's knew they were spurious. they all gabbled and wrote painted and gabbled and there was no difference to them about the men she had noticed one thing their egoism was the egoism of ideas they were better than others they thought because of the ideas in their heads they were excitedly snobbish about these ideas as people are snobbish about clothes but they weren't better than others because they were they they were always leaning on things to make them feel superior radicalism was a series of ideas that they picked up because they felt a superior intellectualism in them ruth had started thinking in this direction after listening to levin doris's friend she had felt something of the sort before

Starting point is 08:21:12 but levin with his almost oily pessimism who talked always as if he were selling something had made it clear the women who go in for revolt levin had said hmm that's another story they're not interested in egoism because as yet there isn't a highly developed caste system among women they still kind of heard together as a sex and they try to impress each other only with their superior artificialities, as to who has the most doting husband, the nicest times, the most accomplished servants. But men, there you have something else, don't you think? And the men we know, the hangers-on around here, comical, huh? You can almost see them bargain-hunting for ideas. They don't stand up on their own feet and let out yaps. They keep crawling inside of new ideas. They keep using ideas as megaphones to proclaim their own superiority. Little men playing hide-and-seek inside of big ideas.

Starting point is 08:22:24 Using ideas about art and life as kids use pumpkin heads on Halloween to frighten and impress the neighbors. Another smile, borrowed finery, huh? Ah, they're all fools. It's hard to be much interested in people, unless you're a poet. if you're a poet then what you do is ignore people and go down like a deep-sea diver to the bottoms of life down there it's interesting yes growth like on the ocean floor as a contrast to these men gabbling in her ear and fumbling with her hands bazin had interested her at once at first she had accepted the way he ignored her as a natural attitude later he would become friendly and she looked forward to his friendship it would be interesting to know what an egoist like bazin thought about things his ideas were obviously rather stupid but then there was something else

Starting point is 08:23:28 strength determination he wasn't like the intellectuals continually losing themselves in new ideas and parading around like kids in their big brother's pants she disliked that kind of men the longer you knew them the more unreal they became until finally when you knew them through and through it was like knowing an inferior edition of an encyclopedia through and through everything was inside but it made no sense it had no direction a jumble of ideas and informations but they formed no plot no man they weren't really egoists the intellectuals men like bazin were but his aloofness seemed to increase with time there had been no natural evolution of friendship she thought then he acts artificially toward me it's because he doesn't want anything to sidetrack him not even friendships he isn't quite human he's like a machine that's wound up and he must run till he breaks down this image of bazin fascinated her a man without heart a cool will feeling its way tirelessly toward power a thirst for power that increased rather than stated itself with success. When he'd been elected judge, he had surprised her by asking,

Starting point is 08:25:03 Would you like to come along with me to the county building? The office doesn't include a secretary, but I need one on my own account. During the months she had gained an almost embarrassing insight into the activities engulfing bazin. The man himself remained hidden, non-existent. but the world in which he had obliterated himself became vividly outlined for her the intrigues counter intrigues the complexities of his climb these were open secrets to her he seemed shameless about them often when she watched him furtively as he wrote out political speeches she would think is there a man there it seemed to her there was not only an ambition tirelessly at work an ambition with a keen nervous face sharp eyes thin hands and an eloquent voice

Starting point is 08:26:03 but something more a man who didn't hide inside ideas but who remained outside them giving himself to nothing except his consuming desire to utilize ideas for his own end he remained outside them he remained outside them-giving himself to nothing except his consuming desire to utilize ideas for his own end he remained outside manipulating he manipulated life all for what fascinated she fell in love when he came in where she was her heart jumped when he talked to her something contracted in her throat and frightened her she had her day-dreams as the spring opened sunny mornings over the streets she would sit gazing out of the tall windows and think of Bazine. Her thoughts took an odd turn. They built up scenes in which Bazine lay defeated. Accidents had maimed him.

Starting point is 08:26:59 Political reversals had taken the heart out of him. He was ruined, poor, without employment. She pictured such situations with relish. In them, she appeared as an understanding one. She would fancy herself coming to him and shaking her head sadly and saying, Poor man, I'm so sorry, but you see, you see where it all led, to this.

Starting point is 08:27:27 And she would fancy him smiling back with the romantic tiredness and reaching for her hand and answering as if he were an actor with a speech. Yes, my dear, I've been wrong. Ambition is wrong. I'm ruined. And it is only proof that I was wrong.

Starting point is 08:27:46 And then, in her fancies, he would look at her tenderly, and, raising her hand to his lips, murmur, "'Forgive me, Ruth!' The door of the chambers opened, and Ruth looked up, startled. Paul Schroeder strode in. He looked jaunty. She smiled. He was one of Bazine's friends, and she liked him for that. He had been of the hard-working loyal ones during Bazine's case.

Starting point is 08:28:16 campaign. Oh, nothing in particular, he said, thought I'd just drop in for a smoke. How's his honor these days? He's very fine, Ruth answered. Schroeder shook his head. I'm afraid he's drying up, he grinned. That's the trouble with men of his type. Get their noses down to a grindstone and never have time to look up. Ruth blushed. Ruth blushed. That didn't sound like a loyal speech. She saw Schroeder smiling broadly at her. You're quite a champion of his, he was saying. Well, well, maybe his honor isn't as slow as I've been giving him credit for being.

Starting point is 08:29:05 From anyone else this would have been offensive, she thought. But there was something pleasing in the accusation. She hesitated and then returned his smile. you know as well as i what kind of a man judge bazin is she answered he's the kind every woman respects at first sight loves you mean said schroeder oh no i don't think a woman could really love mr bazine she smiled he's too much wrapped up in himself well i don't know then said schroeder his wife puts up a pretty good bluff then ruth's smile left her oh she said of course schroeder laughed well well he went on so you'd forgotten he had a wife that's a sweet kettle of fish such memory lapses are dangerous watch your step young lady look out he stood up and approached her and wagged a finger mockingly in a way schroeder annoyed her he always made her feel juvenile she could never use any of her sophisticated phrases on him

Starting point is 08:30:25 because he laughed too loudly and if you retorted cleverly he always guffawed as if he had trapped you into having to be clever his manner always seemed to say you can't put it over me i know i know ruth turned with relief at the sound of a door opening bazin this was one of his habits to appear suddenly and for no reason at all and walk up and down the large room as if immersed in grave thought she had often wondered why he did this she thought it was because the work on the bench made him too nervous or because there were so many things weighing on his mind that he needed a few minutes now and then to straighten himself out. But while thinking this, she had always felt that his sudden appearances had something to do with her. It was perhaps only a part of her vanity, she mused, but she always had this impression, that despite his indifference and sternness, he was curiously attentive. No matter how busy he was, he never absented himself long. He was always returning and walking up and down. It was odd, but she felt at times that he walked up and down for her,

Starting point is 08:31:49 to be near her. Hello, Paul, Bazine's eyes slanted up at him, his head slightly lowered, a pose which gave him a pugnaciously concentrated air, such as a schoolmaster looking over the top of his glasses at an airing pupil might achieve. What do you want? A disconcerted, a disconcerted, directness he reserved for the embarrassment of his friends he asked straightforward questions point-blank questions his questions always had the air of troops unafraid wheeling in maneuver to face the enemy nothing much judge but your office is kind of restful schroeder rolled a kittenish eye toward ruth oh bazin stiffened huh schroeder winked at the girl he came forward and added all the comforts of home eh and dropped into a chair beside her he had the faculty of boyishness a talent for intimacies his trick was a conscious thrust beneath a guard of women he chose to ignore the delicate foldy roll of pursuit the pretence of formality he refused to recognize the barrier of dignity, strangeness, social poise,

Starting point is 08:33:16 but stepped through them with an easy laugh, as if perfectly aware of what lay beyond, and seated himself beside his quarry in the guise of a mischievous boy asking to be congratulated for his boldness. Women succumbed to this gesture, disarmed by its frankness, its pretense to innocent juvenility.

Starting point is 08:33:39 In this manner, Schroeder achieved within an hour, intimacies which came to other men only after months of laborious toil. He threw a noise of laughter over the bantering innuendos of his talk, disguising boldness in its own obviousness. His sallies seem to say, You have nothing to fear from us since we are not secretive. We are cards on the table. Women thought of him, he's lots of fun. You don't have to pretend with him. You can play and talk without feeling he's laying traps for you. But despite the straightforwardness of the man, they soon located the overtone in his conversation.

Starting point is 08:34:23 It lay in his eyes. His eyes never gave themselves to his laughter. They seemed to watch avidly from behind something. It was as if they were independent of his characterization as a frankly mischievous overgrown boy. They were able to ask amazingly. indecent questions in the midst of his frankest outbursts. Women invariably grew embarrassed under their stare. There was no defense against the inquisitive impudence, with which they announced the male's concentration. Their gleam was like an unmistakable whisper, an invitation. Buzine admired the man, but he remained oblivious to this side of him. Schroeder's female conquests had never interested

Starting point is 08:35:12 the judge. He had heard of them and forgotten immediately. Now, however, memories returned. Schroeder was an unscrupulous animal. Bazzine looked at him with a hopeless misgiving. He noticed, as Schroeder and Ruth talked, that he seemed on far more intimate terms with her than he. There was an esprit between the two, as if they were comrades of long-standing. His friend's familiarity was a shock, as if he had caught him undressed, unexpectedly. Bazine listened to his talk with an aloof frown, as if he were unable to focus his attention on the scene. He was thinking of something else, far away things, vast preoccupations. Loafing is an art, don't you think so, Ruth?

Starting point is 08:36:06 I've never had time to find out. Huh, I'm teacher. Want me to be teacher? Why, yes, if you have time in your loafing. Time for you always, my dear. A contemplative stare at the girl. What would you say, Judge, if I fall in love with your charming secretary? He laughed. Bazine cleared his throat.

Starting point is 08:36:33 He felt miserably out of this sort of thing. He was shocked to his. hear Ruth giggle. Yes, sir, Schroeder continued. And what are you doing this evening? Nothing, Mr. Schroeder. Well, why waste time? How about dinner and a show?

Starting point is 08:36:54 Really? She glanced at Bazine as if to declare him on this give and take. He was preoccupied, hardly observing what was happening. She pouted. Cross my heart. said Schroeder. Thanks very much, a very generous, if general invitation. Discovered? Shroder laughed.

Starting point is 08:37:20 All right, then. Six o'clock at the auditorium. Woman's entrance. I'll wear a red rose in my ear. Can't miss me. Ruth nodded. There you are, George, Schroeder cried. All done in a minute. And tomorrow will be in love. with each other. What'll you marry us for, Your Honor?

Starting point is 08:37:42 Remember, I helped elect you. A boisterous laugh that seemed to mock the boastfulness and prophecies of the man and say of itself, I'm joshing all of you, including me. Bazine left them. His heart was heavy, uncomfortable. He sat on the bench, frowning at the scene. Eager lawyers whispering, a woman in a green hat,

Starting point is 08:38:08 holding a handkerchief to her eyes. A bald-headed man on the other side of the long mahogany table? Faces for a background. A divorce case. The woman weeping was a wife. The bald-headed one, with the air of a board of directors' meeting about him, ogled his accusers with dignity. He was a husband.

Starting point is 08:38:32 The jury sat deloriously inattentive in the box. A witness was testifying. other people's troubles an interminable jawing back and forth lawyers defendants witnesses and more lawyers bazin frowned other people's troubles and he had his own this thing before him was an intrusion at best he had no sympathy for the interminable jawing that went on under his eyes he had grown passionately interested in what he called the people but when he thought of the people he thought of them as a force a group an army standing with faces raised repeating certain slogans a vision that doris had bequeathed him the interminable jawing weeping accusation and denial before him from day to day had nothing to do with the people about these individuals he was cynical and more he was not interested the witness was testifying the intimidating air of the judge seemed to confuse her her confusion irritated bazin he turned indignantly and faced her with a bullying frown what is it you're trying to say madam did you see this man beat her yes your honor i i that is bazin controlled his temper and grimaced humorously at the judge

Starting point is 08:40:05 jurors, whose faces at once lighted with an appreciative smile. A fearless man, Judge Bazine, who couldn't tolerate the mumble, mumble of legal technicalities, and who struck at the roots of things when he took charge of a witness. They were in the room behind him, alone. An intolerable thought, but impossible to keep his thought away. His imagination, like a merciless flagellate, belied. labored him with fancies. Paul would teach her, lean over, and kiss her, and she would kiss in return and whisper,

Starting point is 08:40:44 Paul! He was unmarried and good-looking. Perhaps she was heartbroken, too. He, Bazine, had never spoken, despite the light he had recognized of late in her eyes. She was in love with him, and filled with despair because her love was useless. so now she would turn to schroeder in desperation she would try to forget him bazin it was logical women forgot hurts in that way by giving themselves to someone else the heaviness grew unbearable another man was touching ruth this was unbearable he couldn't stand it but why what difference he couldn't she was so beautiful another man's hands were desecration a weakness came to him his heart darkened what if she did with schroeder they were probably kissing now

Starting point is 08:41:48 it had been hard to imagine himself kissing her to him she somehow seemed aloof beyond possession but it was easy to imagine schroeder men and women put their arms around each other and that was an end to aloof beyond possession but it was easy to imagine schroeder men and women put their arms around each other and that was an end to aloofness he made an effort to pull himself together voices were droning around him other people's troubles faces thrust themselves tactlessly at his eyes he grew nauseated he had never felt like this before as if he must do something despite his will his will said sit there don't move it's none of your business. But this other thing was pulling him out of his seat and moving his body for him. He clenched his teeth and muttered to himself, She's no good, wasting my time on her.

Starting point is 08:42:46 That will be all for today, Bazine muttered. He placed his hand wearily over his forehead. This would make them think he was ill. His clerk came forward. Anything wrong, Judge? He asked with concern. Bazine shook his head with Spartan indifference to the mythical disease consuming him. No, he said, belying his answer in its tone,

Starting point is 08:43:14 court is adjourned until ten o'clock tomorrow. He nodded briefly at the faces. The solicitous regard in the eyes of attorneys and jurors reassured him. He was ill, very ill. That was it. Of course that was it. The eyes of the attorneys and jurors said, You are working too hard.

Starting point is 08:43:37 You must be careful of a nervous breakdown. In your prime, too. Be careful. He walked off the bench, his step unsteady. He was acting. But the fact that his step was not authentically unsteady was an accident and illogical. He felt it logical.

Starting point is 08:43:58 to walk unsteadily, since everyone thought him ill and on the verge of a breakdown. You'd better go home, Judge. Bazine nodded gratefully to his clerk. He opened the door to his chambers. The sight of Schroeder bewildered him. Schroeder was still there. He had his hat in his hand, though. Bazine stared at his friend.

Starting point is 08:44:24 His heart contracted, and his breath fluttered in his throat. What's wrong, George? Nothing, headache. Knocked off for the day. Words were hard to speak. His eyes turned to Ruth. She was watching him. Frightenedly, he thought.

Starting point is 08:44:45 Had she done something? Kissed? They looked guilty. He tried to find answers to the questions by staring at her. Was she the same as she had been? or had she given her lips? A vital question. They were going out tonight together.

Starting point is 08:45:05 Bazine controlled himself. He sat down at his desk and ran his hand wearily over his head. Well, so long, Schroeder spoke. Hope you feel better, George. A pause. See you later, Ruth. See her later. They had no sympathy for his illness.

Starting point is 08:45:27 they would go out and laugh hold hands make love despite his trouble he sat brooding over the cruelty of women cruel no finer feelings he mumbled to himself they were alone was he ill what was it that had lifted him off the bench nothing definite a dark disorder in his mind a heaviness in his heart that had seemed part of the room he wanted to moan yes he was sick can i do anything judge he hated her her voice with its hypocritical concern as if she cared for him after what had happened between her and schroeder see you later and he called her ruth no miss davis this was unbearable he would insult her there was relief in insulting her making her suffer for something too but she might go away if he did he couldn't go on with his work any more work was impossible a disease was active in him sending out dark clouds that choked his thought and swelled his heart with pain she might leave for good then what could he do nothing but why all this make believe he would tell her he loved her simple that would drain him of his pain he stood up and paced she was at her desk he noticed large eyes and excited but he could do nothing say nothing he was impotent good god he must how no way he could think of

Starting point is 08:47:24 the thing was smothering him before days and weeks before he had kept it down but now it had slid from underneath and was in his head there was no outlet he dared not talk no thoughts were in his mind henrietta his children home morality marriage none of these was in his mind but there was a restriction a wall he could not pass There were things holding him with merciless hands. They gripped at his body and thrust themselves like gags into his mouth. She had risen and was standing near the window. If he kept to his pacing, he must come near her. It was her fault. He was just pacing.

Starting point is 08:48:15 She was in his path. If he walked straight to the end of the room, she would be in his path. Why should he turn out? for her. He paused beside her. He must say something. It was talk that was impossible. He stood looking at her until his eyes grew bewildered. There was a moment in which he seemed to vanish from himself, as if he had stepped bodily out of himself. His thought paralyzed with a curious terror, he saw nothing. The moment of unconsciousness passed, and he was still a alive and still on his feet. His voice lay under control in his throat, and the memory of his name

Starting point is 08:49:01 sat like a perpetual visitor in his thought. But there was a change. A miraculous thing had happened. He was no longer bazin. He was a stranger in a strange world. He was holding her in his arms. An impossible sensation was in him. This was something he couldn't believe. He was a stranger. He He wanted to look at himself. He had his arms around her, but there was no woman in the circle of his arms. He was holding something that let his delirium escape. Torments were emptying themselves in the embrace. The miseries that had accumulated under the surface of his months of resistance were leaving

Starting point is 08:49:46 him, flying from him. His heart was growing unbearably light. oh he murmured her arms had tightened and he saw her eyes approach him they were rapturous she was warm intimate close to him her lips still piquantly strange were offering themselves she was unlike everything he knew a startling vigor as if he had been changed into a rampaging giant swept him as they kissed he was great strong he could walk over the heads of the world he had no need for further embrace he stepped away his face radiant ruth looked at him in confusion this was a new beseen he frightened the mask was gone the frown of preoccupation she grew dizzy in the light of his eyes he was a stranger what should she call her him but he was talking to her in a voice that he seemed to have kept secret i love you ruth i love you he laughed she smiled uncertainly and felt that her face looked awkward he could see the lines of her cheeks bulging as she lowered her eyes this confused her and made her feel stiff there had been something of this sort a few minutes ago in paul schroeder when he had been something of this sort a few minutes ago in paul schroeder when he

Starting point is 08:51:21 had tried to take her hand. But now, the thing she had noted calmly in Schroeder seemed a puny imitation. Here it was real. He was laughing, softly, joyously. He was like a boy. Her heart filled with panic. She put her arms quickly around his neck and pressed herself close to him. The panic went out of her deliciously. george i love you i'm so happy they sat looking at each other an excited smile in bazine's eyes his body was tingling a new sense had come it lived in his fingers he was holding her hand his fingers were charged with an amazing energy they seemed to have become part of a different person he was able to enjoy the ecstasy that confused his fingers were charged with an amazing energy they seemed to have become part of a different person he was able to enjoy the ecstasy that confused his fingers as if it were an external emotion the rest of him was clear almost tranquil well he said it was still hard to talk he was aware of incongruities he was not bazine talking not the new bazine not the one whose fingers danced and throbbed his voice belonged to other bazines other character

Starting point is 08:52:44 Who's awkward ghosts fluttered nervously in his thought. He would discuss this phenomenon. It was easy, after all. Be honest. She was one with whom he could be astonishingly honest. They were isolated. The word was a futility. There was an end to make-believe now.

Starting point is 08:53:08 It was all honest, tranquil, joyous. He began again. well isn't it strange i can hardly talk to you i'm not used to us yet this way i've loved you since i first saw you but i've told so many lies about that to both of us he paused to smile at her as if asking her not to believe him a liar or if she must a liar in a high cause that the things i want to say now seem like-like the contradictions of something of old lies in a way she nodded oh i know she whispered a preposterous admiration of her intelligence overcame him of course she understood it was unnecessary to talk to her she had kissed and embraced him she had felt the same things he had and now their thoughts were alike they were like one person having a person having shared something that filled them. It was unnecessary to talk, because if he remained silent, she knew he was thinking of her. A charming sense of comradeship came to him. I feel, he said, as if we were too intimate for words. She nodded again and smiled.

Starting point is 08:54:37 We'll make a holiday, he added. Come, we'll go for a drive. They embrace. This time he thought of Henrietta. Ruth was different from his wife. Her shoulder blades felt different under his fingers. It was impossible to think they were both women. His arms around Henrietta meant nothing. His arms around Ruth, now. He closed his eyes in order to closet himself with indefinable sensations.

Starting point is 08:55:10 They emerged from the traffic of the loop. Bazzine at the wheel of his newly purchased roadster dropped a hand on hers. I feel better like this, he said. Isn't it wonderful, she whispered. He would have liked to tell her they were floating over buildings, but he kept silent. Words were still self-conscious interlopers. The houses moved away. A spring wind was in their faces.

Starting point is 08:55:41 They were silent. The pavements ended. Bazine brought the car to a stop. I don't know what to do, he said. I'm so happy. He placed his arms around her. The touch of her body through his clothes was a reminder of something. He gave it no words. They sat and braced, their faces together, and an unspoken laugh in their hearts. The sun was high overhead.

Starting point is 08:56:14 Bazine tried to remember himself. Henrietta, his home, his position. Ah, banalities! He was proud. He was above remorse, regret, above himself. There was nothing in the world as beautiful as the moment he commanded. Ruth leaned avidly against him, as if seeking refuge in his arms. He sat thinking,

Starting point is 08:56:42 It is right, everything right. I've done nothing, no compromise, nothing. I'm happy. There's nothing to frighten me. He felt released. End of Chapter 16. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 17 of Gargoyles.

Starting point is 08:57:17 This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Malene. Argoils by Ben Hecht. Chapter 17 Summer lay like a Mandarin coat over the city. It was June. Warm sun-onning streets glistened with ornamental colors. Women in gaudy fabrics, men in violent hat bands, straws, panamas, striped shirts, sun parasols like huge discs of confetti, freshly painted red and green streetcars, pastel-tinted automobiles, all these tumbled like a swarm of sprightly incoherent adjectives along the foot of the buildings. The store windows, like deaf and dumb

Starting point is 08:58:04 hawkers, grimaced at the crowds, ice creams, silks, swimming suits, and sport paraphernalia, jaunty frocks, white trousers, candies, festive habadashery, drugs, leather goods, wicker furniture and assortments of lingerie like the symbols of fastidious sins. All these grimaced behind plate glass. The city was in bloom. People, perspiring and lightly dressed, sauntered by the plate glass orchards. Summer filled the city with reminiscent smells. Sky, water, grass scampered like merry ghost through the carnival of the shopping center. warm sun-onning streets ornamental men and women summer spread itself through the crowds warmed the bargain hunters loiterers clerks stenographers business men and housewives into a half-sleep they peered lazily at each other their mysterious preoccupations seemed to have subsided the sun made holiday in the streets and the high fluttering windows showered endlessly tiny

Starting point is 08:59:18 sons on the air. The morning held the unreal soul of some forgotten picnic. Ten o'clock. Fanny Gilchrist turned with an inward sigh and walked out of the crowded business street. This was LaSalle Street, and concealed in the buildings around her, were people who knew her and might see her, accidentally bump into her. The crowds grew thinner and less familiar types of faces drifted by. This was better. She wasn't exactly afraid. But what if someone did bump into her accidentally? Then she would have to say where she was going, and if she lied, perhaps they would insist upon coming along and discover it. But that was foolishness. No one ever met people in streets like that. Men looked at her with casual interest, with insignificant enthusiasm as she

Starting point is 09:00:15 walked by them. A bright-haired, shining-eyed young woman with a body undulating softly under a gray and green trimmed dress. She seemed to light up the dingy pavements. Other women passed lighting them up also. Each new female illuminant was welcomed with thankful, greedy eyes. Her red sailor jauntily tilted and the silken gleam of her face were like part of a luscious mask. She was a woman hurrying somewhere, and men, bored with other women, looked at her enthusiastically. She was one of the many enigmatic ones, one of the many gaudy-colored masks behind which sex paraded its mystery through the sun-onning streets. Eyes on weed with the memory of sex lighted eagerly in the presence of its masks. The flash of ankles and the swell of thighs

Starting point is 09:01:12 under pretty fabrics were diversions, even from moralists. Schroeder, waiting patiently on a street corner, watched the warm crowd. She wouldn't come. Yes, she would. Well, another five minutes would tell. He saw her and his excitement changed. A leisurely smile came to his face. His body relaxed. He was a connoisseur in rendezvous, and his enjoyment of the moment which witnessed her approach was deliberate. Women in themselves did not interest him so much. Their bodies, pleasant, yes, but, after all, a finale. And one does not applaud finale.

Starting point is 09:01:57 But now, watching her lithe figure hurrying toward him was a diversion to be sipped at, contemplated in all its emotional detail, and enjoyed. Later it would be this point. moment he remembered, if he remembered anything, which was uncertain. For his memories, which had in his younger days glistened in his thought, like a mosaic of eroticism, had of late blurred to a monotone. He could remember women, liaisons, passion phrases, and great enthusiasms, but, curiously, they seemed all identical. To recall how one woman had sighed in his arms was to

Starting point is 09:02:39 recall the whole pack of them, as if the souls of his paramours and the manner of their surrenders were contained completely in the recollection of any one detail. But despite his ennui, this moment of approach still delighted him. The woman hurrying to his side was not yet a woman. She was still a mystery, whose inevitable and never-varying sensualism was masked for a final instant behind unfamiliar fabrics. There was a piquant unreality, a diverting strangeness, as she smiled at him. She was somebody he did not know.

Starting point is 09:03:19 He was authentically bored with women. But for the moment it was not a woman approaching, rather a new color of cloth, a new combination of dress, a new species of social poison gesture were presenting themselves for ravishment. in these unfamiliar surfaces lay a tenuous mystery as if it were these externals he was about to embrace and in the contemplation of this mystery his interest revived itself he sighed it was a mystery which would vanish shortly hello dearest he greeted her softly with regret a quixotic impulse to turn and walk away before she spoke had died in him

Starting point is 09:04:05 fanny was staring expectantly he was familiar with the expression not in her but in others this took away its charms married women were nearly all alike full of distressing short cuts with an irritating and incongruous professionalism behind their bewilderment what dolts husbands must be to blunt women like that as he took her hand and felt her fingers clutch excitedly around his palm he remembered in an instant the predecessors of her type full of distressing short cuts when they gave their hands they withheld nothing they denuded themselves with a look with a hand-clasp and the subtlety of skirmishing seemed entirely foreign to them when they embraced it was with an appalling directness yes in intrigue they were all alike all like precocious children vague bewildered children mimicking the precision of their elders and exclaiming with distrustful incongruity tut tut let's come to the point let's get down to brass tacks and stop beating around the bush well here she was and the scene was on am i late no dearest i was just a little early so as to enjoy the impatience of waiting for you the nuance was lost upon her amorous women were a cold audience for technique i'm so upset do you mind not at all fanny of course you're upset but it only adds to your charm he had long ago abandoned love-making tactics sensing that women who came to him were

Starting point is 09:05:58 not particularly interested in tender pretences. They desired flattery, but direct and practical variance. This one was like the others, flushed, eager, frightened, and gay. He felt an exhilaration as they walked towards the entrance of the unpretentious hotel around the corner, a sense of conquest. It was nothing to be enjoyed in itself. But if people knew, which they never could, alas they would be awed by the ease with which he accomplished such things.

Starting point is 09:06:34 One, two, three meetings, and here they were again. Paul Schroeder entering a hotel with a woman at his side. This isn't a bad place, he whispered. I've already registered. Mr. and Mrs. Paul Johnson. It's better if you know your name, of course. Fanny stood tremblingly in front of the elevator, cage as he walked to the desk. She noticed his carelessness, the unself-conscious way in which he

Starting point is 09:07:05 smiled at the clerk and paused to buy some cigars. The fear that had grown in her since she left her home appeared to be reaching a climax. Her knee shivered under her dress, and a catch in her throat made breathing difficult. There's nothing to be afraid of, She repeated silently to herself, and tried to understand the cause of her trembling. Even if there were consequences, there was Aubrey. She smiled nervously. It was his fault. He was a fool. They entered the elevator.

Starting point is 09:07:43 A sleepy boy shut the cage door after them. Schroeder gripped her arm and his fingers caressed the soft flesh. She turned to him and smiled. she was no longer afraid a shameless exultant light kindled in her eyes she leaned against him with a shiver as the elevator lifted slowly they had decided to check out in time for her to return home for dinner i don't have to go up to the desk with you do i she asked schroeder smiled tiredly oh no he said you wait at the entrance with the property's suitcase then we'll both take a cab and drive a few blocks i'll get out with the bag and you drive on home it's simple nevertheless the fear she had experienced in the morning returned as she watched him go to the desk in another minute it would be all over and everything would be all right but now what if someone saw them bumped into her accidentally the lassitude which had filled her when she locked the tumble hotel room behind her, gave way to a curious panic. Her tired nerves became unhappily alive.

Starting point is 09:09:04 Why? Hello, Mrs. Gilchrist. She was unable to see the man for an instant. Her mind had darkened. I mustn't faint, she murmured to herself. She was looking at an unshaven, dissipated face that smiled. As she looked, her world seemed to be falling down. everything gone ruined because a face was smiling tom ramsie the man's name popped into her thought hello she muttered schroeder approached and frowned he took her arm and led her away she began to cry in the cab he saw us he knows he'll tell everybody oh my god why did you come up when you saw him. If you'd only realized, oh, why did I do it? Now everything's ruined. I'm lost. She wept, knowing the futility of tears. An accident that seemed provokingly unreal and soothingly unimportant, Tom Ramsey. Yet the name was like a guillotine block on which her

Starting point is 09:10:19 head lay stretched. Schroeder, annoyed, tried to console her. Who was it? Listen, pull yourself together. People always imagine themselves guiltier looking than they are. He probably thought nothing wrong. Tom Ramsey, didn't you see how he looked at me? Oh, God, I'm sick.

Starting point is 09:10:43 Who is he? He used to be my mother's friend, but he went to the dogs. He's just a tramp now. He isn't a gentleman. Schroeder sighed. Oh, well, he said, there is no use worrying. Come, put it out of your head.

Starting point is 09:11:04 I can't. Oh, I can't. Why did I do it? I'll kill myself if anything happens. Aubrey will—oh, Paul, I feel sick. He stared glumly at the back of the chauffeur's head. A nuisance. A damned nuisance. His mind played with contrasts. A few hours ago she had been shameless.

Starting point is 09:11:30 Now she sat weeping. He thought of her as ungrateful and grew angry. I'll step out now, he whispered. Call me up tomorrow at the office, will you? Nothing will happen. Please be calm. It's all imagination. He halted the cab and stepped out with a suitcase.

Starting point is 09:11:52 She would feel better, he knew, as soon as he disappeared. She would be able to convince herself then that nothing had happened, that she was coming home from a shopping tour. Goodbye, call me up, dearest. Fanny sat weeping as the cab moved away. Ramsey had seen her. A misery too heavy for thought brought another burst of tears. She hated Schroeder, and herself,

Starting point is 09:12:22 too. But most of all, the ragged-looking, unshaven Ramsey in the lobby. Why had he come at just that moment? If they had left the room ten minutes earlier, it was Paul's fault. He insisted on combing his hair and reading a story in the newspaper. If he hadn't sent down for the newspaper in the middle of the afternoon, he didn't love her, or he wouldn't have thought of sending for it. she had laughed at the time but it was an insult he was a brute if he had loved her he wouldn't have wanted to read a newspaper and they wouldn't have met ramsie

Starting point is 09:13:04 she sat conjuring up dozens of trifling incidents which had they occurred would have prevented the fatal meeting with ramsie then she smiled convulsively through her tears it was about the story they had laughed at it in the room judge bazin launches vice quiz state to investigate problem of immorality among women wage earners why girls go wrong why girls go wrong rumbled through her head now and she laughed hysterically oh that tramp of a ramsie had spoiled it all otherwise it would have been wonderful and next week too but perhaps he hadn't noticed anything Of course he hadn't. Paul was right. She dried her tears and looked into the twilighted streets. She had planned her homecoming days ago. She would be ill, overcome by the heat, and excuse herself from the dinner table.

Starting point is 09:14:09 A final chill shot through her heart as the cab stopped. She found herself entering her home with complete poise. It was almost as if nothing had happened. Here were the familiar things of life, her home, Aubrey, the rows of books, the walnut library table. Nothing had happened. For a moment she was amazed at the complete unconsciousness of the day. Then, smiling delightedly at her husband in a chair, a familiar husband in a familiar chair, she removed her hat and approached him. Leaning over the back of his chair, she kissed him tenderly on the cheek. He was her protector. Good old Aubrey, so familiar, so placid and

Starting point is 09:14:58 unchanged. If it only hadn't been for Ramsey, everything would be so nice now. But anyway, it wasn't so bad. She had been a bit hysterical. Where have you been, Fanny? She felt no twinge at the question. Instead, an enthusiasm for the situation filled her. To the matinee, she laughed. Oh, I saw the nicest show. She leaned forward and took his hand. Aubrey regarded her with a petulant stare. Despite their years of marriage, she was still an animal, gross and irritating. And I'm just starved, she exclaimed. I was never so hungry in my life. She laughed, overjoyed at the truth of the statement. and hurried upstairs to prepare for dinner.

Starting point is 09:15:55 End of Chapter 17. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 18 of Gargoyles. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 18. The manuscript had been found in the drawer where William Gilchrist kept his collars.

Starting point is 09:16:27 It lay underneath a number of loose collars. With the death of his father, a curious love for the man had come to Aubrey. He remembered from day to day things his father had said, or seemed to say, a sad elderly man who lived secretly in his thoughts. That was his father. Like him, Aubrey now had a secret life

Starting point is 09:16:52 that he lived only in his thoughts, and this was slowly making him kin-in-law. to the man who had died. In Aubrey's thoughts dwelt a romantic, startling figure, a gleaming hawk-faced thunderer, a lean Isaiah of burning phrases with an eagle-winged soul beating its way toward God. This was Aubrey Gilchrist,

Starting point is 09:17:16 not the Aubrey whom life had mysteriously deformed into an advertising man, but an Aubrey triumphant, who had risen above the petty turns of fate and burst upon a world, a voice crying forth astounding phrases against the evil of man's ways. The inner characterization in which Aubrey was gradually immersing himself remained a vague, though warm, generality. He was able to visualize the thunderer and able to enjoy the results of his genius. In his daydreams, he pictured this inner one

Starting point is 09:17:54 bringing the world to his feet. Books were being written about him, magazines and newspapers were filled with his praises and interpretations, and men and women everywhere discussed his assent in awe. He was a conqueror, a bloodless Napoleon and a martyrless Jesus, a prophet whose genius was lifting men out of the mire. What the message was which this inner Aubrey was spreading through the world, what the phrases were that ignited the souls of men, were not contained in his imaginings. He approached them from a critical and not creative angle, his fancies presenting him with descriptive self-praises.

Starting point is 09:18:40 He composed rambling articles in his mind, celebrating his triumphs. This inner Aubrey was eloquent, electrifying, unassailable. and women wept over his writings and repented. Cities reared statues to him, and all places sang his glories. The whole thing had begun as a game, deliberately invented to occupy the leisure of his mind. But he had elaborated on it, and it had grown almost by itself. Now it preoccupied him to an alarming degree. The manuscript in his father's collar drawer had given him a a shock. He had kept it from his mother, assuring himself that such a course was for the best. It was an odd document for his father to leave behind. As he sat on his study, a week after the

Starting point is 09:19:36 funeral, reading it for the first time, Aubrey grew frightened. It seemed to him that he was looking at his father for the first time, that the man who had till now been a half-anigmatic figure to him, stood at last in the room, strong and alive. The thing was a primitive type of novel, discursive, gentle, rabelaisian. It recounted the mental and physical adventures of an Elizabethan philosopher in a succession of unrelated episodes. There was a caress in the sentences, a simplicity in the narrative that translated itself into cunning realism. When he had finished the reading, abry stared at his father's portrait hanging over one of the bookcases the reality of the manuscript held him he felt bewildered it had for some three hours lifted him out of the present and immersed him in scenes and amid a company of naive ancients starkly alive a dormant literary sense awakened in him

Starting point is 09:20:44 the thing was a work of art as moving as authentic as apollaius or cervantes but he would put it away he hid it in a private drawer its memory however grew in his mind during his day at work the thought of the thing his father had written came to haunt him as if it demanded something he felt closer to it than he had ever felt to his father there was something distasteful though about the intimacy. That was his soul, he would explain over to himself. He lived that way inside. It was like writing a biography of secret dreams for him.

Starting point is 09:21:28 It's strange. We're all like that. Even I. There was something odd in Father. Funny, we never guessed. It must have been written a paragraph at a time over years and years. It was a little.

Starting point is 09:21:44 a sort of diary and he would recall excerpts from the book gentle skepticisms childish animalisms but the tone of the thing which he could never put into words was what haunted him most over the naive acrobatics of plot and lively preening's of idea an unwritten smile spread itself a pensive tolerance that seemed to say yes yes life has been this tale is a curious jest an epitaph over an empty grave yesterday is unreal and to-day is even less real yet here are fancies the ghosts of sad and happy folk who never lived and among these ghosts i once found life the idea of publishing the manuscript came to aubrey one evening when his wife returned from the theatre in a curious mood she was late for dinner and this irritated him but her manner was even more irritating she was strident flushed gross her laugh as they ate made his mother frown he observed he said little when they left the table an indignation toward fanny had come to him he retired to his study fanny insisted on following him she hovered about his chair as he tried to read caressing him in a curious way as if he were a child with whom she was amused it occurred to him that she thought him a failure that there was something condescending in her manner oh leave me alone please fanny huh we're peevish dear me poor old aubrey's working too hard

Starting point is 09:23:40 please but i want to talk to you i want to tell you about the matinee i'm not interested fanny you know how i hate vaudeville i love it that's your privilege don't be sarcastic aubrey i'm not i'm just tired tired what have you been doing despite herself she accented the you the memory of schroeder and their day together had left her it persisted however as a curious elation the ambiguity of words exhilarated her she felt a sense of mastery she wanted also to be tender toward aubrey to please and charm him it was necessary to do this in order to disarm him but he had no suspicions she was certain of that nevertheless it was necessary to make sure he had none there were many paradoxical things necessary and most curious of them all was the necessity of showing aubrey that she loved him her heart warmed toward him as it hadn't for years she felt unaccountably grateful to aubrey she would have liked to sit at his side whispering love names and caressing his hair. Well, for one thing, I've been writing.

Starting point is 09:25:14 He looked at her calmly. Writing? You mean books? Why, I didn't know. Aubrey smiled, recovering a superiority toward her. But his heart grew heavy, almost simultaneously. She had thrown her arms about him and was exclaiming, Oh, I'm so glad. I'm so glad you're writing again, Aubrey, darling. I've wanted you to so much. He pushed her away slowly. She stood pouting. Now I can see where I take a back seat, she sighed.

Starting point is 09:25:53 Yes, sir, you won't have time for me at all. But I don't care. As long as you're happy, darling, I'm delighted. I want you to be happy. and I know it makes you happy to write." When she left the room, Aubrey remained frowning after her. He would surprise her. He would surprise them all. He would publish the manuscript under his own name. It would create a sensation.

Starting point is 09:26:22 It would bring him back in the public eye more glorified than he had been in his literary heyday. In a few days the idea had grown to obliterating proportions. For a time he abandoned the contemplation of the inner Aubrey, the gleaming-eyed thunderer. This other was nearer reality, an Aubrey hymned as a rejuvenated literary figure. But he hesitated. His indecision resulted in a predicament. He had been boasting cautiously of his new work, letting out hints as to its character. There was Cressy, a literary critic and a member of the club where he lunched. He had talked to him about it.

Starting point is 09:27:09 I'm surprised myself, he explained. I was rather uncertain whether I could come back, but the rest was evidently just what I needed. The book isn't at all in my old style, more direct, sincere, and entirely simple. You'll like it. Cressy became important in Aubrey's predicament. Cressy was a man whom Aubrey identified as the more discriminating public. He yearned for the approval of this public, and as his decision to have his father's manuscript printed under his own name grew, Aubrey sought the critic out.

Starting point is 09:27:50 It was pleasant to boast to Cressy, to feel oneself part of the superior literary world Cressy inhabited. Cressy had left the university with the determination to rest. write. He had, however, developed into a scholar, using a knowledge of Greek and Latin to acquire a baggage of classical erudition. For ten years, he had been contributing literary essays to magazines and newspapers. In these, he wagged his head sorrowfully over the decline of letters. He presented an impregnable front to all new writers. The names of new novelists in the book lists irritated him precisely as the names of new celebrities in the society columns had once irritated Mrs. Bazine. He resented them as intruders and focused a pedantic wrath on them.

Starting point is 09:28:47 In his own mind, he pictured himself as being in a continual state of revolt against the inferiority of modern literature. His attacks, however, were entirely a defensive gesture. His literary point of view was inspired by a heroic desire to annihilate contemporary literature. Contemporary books were an insult and a barrier to his egoism. He battled against them. His struggle was the quixotic effort to assert the superiority of his erudition. New novels, new poetry, new philosophies were a conspiracy to minimize him, and he went after them with the zeal of one engaged in tracking criminals to their lair.

Starting point is 09:29:35 At forty-five he was a stern-faced man with a graying mustache, heavy glasses behind which gleamed indignant eyes. He was impressive-looking. People who never read his fulminations still felt a high regard for his scholarship. He was fearless in the pronunciation of French, Latin, and Greek names, and invariably functioned as arbiter in all disputes concerning classical quotations and illusions. His friendship with Aubrey was based chiefly on the certainty he felt that Aubrey was an inferior writer. He was not part of the conspiracy aimed at the minimization of Cressy, the scholar.

Starting point is 09:30:21 Well, I'm glad to hear that, Aubrey, he congratulated his friend. Very glad. Writing is a delight few people understand these days. I know, and I think you'll be interested particularly, John, because the story is of Elizabethan England. I've modeled the technique on Apaleus and the other later Roman tale tellers. Indeed, Cressy Bristle, that should be interesting. I'd like to have your opinion of it, John.

Starting point is 09:30:56 I've always valued what you say. but this time more than ever. Because I feel I've entered your field and you're guarding the fences and all that. Cressy's face relaxed. Quite right. His field. And if the book was any good,

Starting point is 09:31:16 he could leap forward as its authentic champion and through it denounce the base modernism of the day. But how did Aubrey, who was a superficial dabbler, come by Elizabethan England. Aubrey promised to produce the manuscript within a few days and left the club. A July sun hammered at the streets.

Starting point is 09:31:40 The heat added to his inward discomfort. It was too hot to think, yet it was necessary to think. Something was piling up, and unless he thought it out clearly, it would fall on him. He had made up his mind to publish his father's manuscript as his own, but in the weeks that had passed he had become aware that he was not going

Starting point is 09:32:04 to carry out his intention. There were things that kept him from it, a morbid sense that his father was watching him had grown in his mind. He was afraid. At night in bed, he conducted himself with a scrupulous politeness toward his wife, certain that his every action was being observed by his father. There was another restriction. The appearance of the manuscript with his name to it would be a distasteful anti-climax. He had lost himself so long and so ardently in the creation of an inner Aubrey, the hawk-faced Isaiah redeeming men, that the prospect of a frankly sensual volume signed by Aubrey Gilchrist made him uncomfortable. In the face of the realities, that would ensue, the praise, for instance, of the healthy animalism of the book,

Starting point is 09:33:02 he would have to abandon the secret characterization that had grown almost an essential of his life. He could not go ahead redeeming men and lifting them toward a life of asceticism while people were talking and writing about the fact that Aubrey Gilchrist was a sensual realist. And finally, there was a feeling of dishonesty, inseparable from his fear, of his father, but adding its weight to the restrictions. As the feeling that he would never dare to publish the manuscript approached a certainty, Aubrey sought to force his own hand by telling his friends of the book, boasting of it and promising its early appearance. In this way, he dimly hoped to make it socially necessary

Starting point is 09:33:49 for him to produce the volume, and that finally the social necessity of living up to his announcements would overpower the inner restraints. He was desperately throwing up bridges, in the hope of being driven across them. The dilemma slipped out of his mind as he walked toward his home. It was distasteful. The finding of the manuscript had, in fact, upset him more than anything which had ever happened. As he neared his residence, a wilted sensation came into his thought. He had been trying eagerly to recover the full image of the inner Aubrey and derive a few hours of surcees in the easy contemplation of that great hero's triumphs. But now it occurred to him that Judge Smith and John McKay, his partner, Fanny and her relatives,

Starting point is 09:34:45 and all his world were buzzing with gossip about his return to literature. The dilemma crawled wearily back into his mom. Yes, they talked about it whenever they came together. There was Bazine the judge. He had seized Aubrey's hand and pumped it heartily when he heard of the book. That's the stuff. I like a man who can come back. Go to it, Aubrey.

Starting point is 09:35:14 Bazine was a bounder. The way Fanny and the rest of them idolized him was disgusting. His mother-in-law... oh the judge told me the most fascinating things about the situation in washington and then for an hour an idiotic mumble about what the judge did what he said what he thought what he hoped nobody ever mentioned henrietta or the children as if their existence was not only unimportant but dubious bazin was an entity he needed no background aubrey wondered why his thought turned to his brother-in-law whenever he felt uncomfortable or found himself in a distressing situation his mind usually busied itself with comment on anything stressful that happened no matter how remote from the judge always seemed to remind aubrey of the man and recall to him the fact that he was a bounder and an ass and entirely unlikeable He entered his home in a dejected mood.

Starting point is 09:36:27 Voices attracted him. Fanny was talking to a man. He paused before the open door. Oh, hello, Aubrey, Fanny greeted him. She stood up. Aubrey noticed she looked pale. Her eyes seemed to follow his observation. Isn't it hot enough?

Starting point is 09:36:49 I'm almost dead. I'm awfully glad you came home. You remember Mr. Ramsey, don't you? How do you do, said Aubrey? Yes, I think. At mothers, long ago. I'm sure you met him. He's an old friend of the family.

Starting point is 09:37:09 How do you do, sir? Ramsey echoed, rising. The men shook hands. Aubrey stared at the dapper, high-strung figure with its flushed face and cool attire, and tried to remember the man. If you'll pardon me, he smiled. Certainly, Aubrey.

Starting point is 09:37:31 See you again, I hope, said Aubrey. Ramsey assented with a curious enthusiasm, assenting the situation uncomfortably. Fanny frowned and watched her husband walk to the stairs. As his steps died, the two returned to their chairs. Oh, it's hot, Fanny murmured. Can't you go away till next month? I'm almost beside myself. Her voice was low. Ramsey listened with disdain. And besides, she continued in a whisper,

Starting point is 09:38:09 I've given you all I can get. I haven't any more money. Money, Ramsey snorted. I'm not talking about money. I'm not asking for any. he stood up and frowned indignantly at her i know but-i just dropped in for a talk he said this with a meaning smile and lighted a cigarette he was very casual she watched him helplessly oh why beat around the bush i'm sick of it i can't stand it how much do you want i've given you three thousand surely that-i don't want any thank you he answered with mysterious sarcasm not a nickel then what do you want her voice was rising despite her fear of being heard this is the fourth time you've you've hounded me oh i hound you again the mysterious sarcasm if you'd only tell me what you want he smiled with the air of a man phenomenally at ease and returned to his chair nothing not a thing i'd just dropped in for a chat that's all his eyes regarded her triumphantly fanny returned their gaze he was crazy there was something crazy about him he had called her on the telephone the day after seeing her in the hotel with schroeder she had gone downtown to meet him the whole business seemed like an impossible dream in retrospect

Starting point is 09:39:55 he had whined and begged for money he was down and out living from hand to mouth his friends gone his clothes in rags he had known her father she could save him and he had never once referred to the incident in the hotel lobby neither had she the conversation had been purely a needy friend and a philanthropically inclined woman she had asked him how much he needed and he answered fifteen hundred dollars would start him a week later he came to her completely rehabilitated an elderly-looking fop swinging a cane and bristling with enthusiasms another fifteen hundred dollars had increased his enthusiasm he came a third time to report that he had found employment she barely listened something had been a third time to report that he had found employment she barely listened something had happened to Ramsey. Now, as he sat smiling sarcasms at her, she realized what it was. Her knowledge of the man was casual, but the thing that had happened was unmistakable. He no longer wanted money from her. He was blackmailing her merely because it gave him a sense of power. They had never mentioned Schroeder or the lobby incident. She regarded him in silence, and the under

Starting point is 09:41:25 understanding of the man slowly nauseated her his polite and affable smiling his cockiness and his suavity all these were part of a pose he called merely to see her wince and because her wincing filled him with this sense of power and he would go on like that but she dared not challenge him he knew about the day with schroeder he had never mentioned it and now he tried to pretend that his dominance over her had nothing to do with blackmail or schroeder he tried to pretend it was because of something else something involved and mysterious Are you going to stay forever? she murmured. Perhaps for dinner, he answered. Fanny sighed. There was her mother-in-law, a stone-faced woman with gimlet eyes, old ferreting eyes. She would sense something, and if they found out, she shuddered.

Starting point is 09:42:33 Her eyes implored. Please, Tom, she whispered. you're torturing me. Oh, no, not at all, he answered, with an idiotic cheerfulness, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips and surprise. He was like a farce actor. She stood up and came to his side. Her hands rested on his shoulder.

Starting point is 09:43:01 Won't you leave me alone? she whispered again. I feel ill. He looked at her with concern. Indeed, he said, I'm awfully sorry. He would go on like this forever. It would always grow worse. He wanted to make a victim of her. He was like a crazy man with an obsession. His suavity and politeness almost made her scream. She covered her face and wept.

Starting point is 09:43:35 There, there, he consoled her. She had dropped into a chast. share, and he was patting her back. It must be the heat. The heat, don't you think? Oh, well, I'll go away now. Are you going to be home Tuesday evening? She made no answer.

Starting point is 09:43:56 Ramsey stood watching her, a smile in his eyes. As she continued to weep, he appeared to grow more and more elated. A sternness entered his voice. Come now! He ordered her. Sit up. She obeyed. It's ridiculous, he continued.

Starting point is 09:44:18 She nodded helplessly. I'll see you Tuesday evening, he added. There was a pause. Then, there's something I'd like to discuss with you. Very important. Don't forget, Tuesday evening. He walked out. Fanny watched him to the door.

Starting point is 09:44:39 A rage came to her. He was play-acting. He was making fun of her, of her fear of exposure, because he was crazy. He didn't want money. He wanted to bulldoze and torture her. He wanted her to think he was somebody. That's why he did it. She stood up and watched him from the window as he walked down the street. A dapper, good-natured figure, smiling with the miscar. mysterious condensation upon the houses he passed. She rushed to her room and locked the door. Something would have to happen. She had not talked to Schroeder about Ramsey since he left her in the cab that first day. She would ask him what to do. No, that would make it worse. He might be like Ramsey. She lay dry-eyed and pondering. The thought slowly grew,

Starting point is 09:45:39 in her. She would tell her brother. George would be able to figure out some way to rid her of this blackmailer. She would tell him everything and explain to him how she couldn't stand it any longer. She lay quietly improvising her conversation with her brother. This brought a relief and she closed her eyes with a sigh. End of Chapter 18. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 19 of Gargoyles This Liberbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht.

Starting point is 09:46:34 Chapter 19 The ballroom of the Hotel LaSalle had been carefully prepared for the opening of the Vice Investigating Commission sessions. A corps of janitors had been active for two days, introducing folding chairs, cuspidors, tables, and waistbaskets. Chairs of varying degrees of importance had been assembled for the witnesses, attorneys, distinguished visitors, and members of the press. The Vice Investigating Commission had been appointed by the governor of the state. It was comprised of ten members, including its chairman, Judge Bazine. The press, with its instinctive dramaturgy,

Starting point is 09:47:18 had centered its comments around the single figure of bazin. The nine state senators, who, as a result of political wire-pulling, had wormed their way into the commission, found themselves lost in the shadow of Bazine. It was the Bazine Commission. As the time for its sessions approached, the press, having by its own headline reiteration of the man's name impressed itself with the prestige and popularity of Bazine, abandon itself without further scruples to its convenient mania of simplifications.

Starting point is 09:47:55 Thus, the preliminary deliberations of the Commission were headlined Bazzine to summon department store heads. Bizzine to plumb vice causes. Bizzine charges dance hall evil. The statements elaborately prepared by the nine senators were invariably attrously attributed to the newspaper columns to Bizzine. The hopes, plans, fears, threats of the Vice Commission were blazoned to the world as the mingled emotions of Bizzine. Photographs of Buzine, his wife, children, and home illumined the papers, and within a week the name

Starting point is 09:48:35 Bizzine had, in the public mind, become innately synonymous with an immemorial crusade against vice. The crusade itself remained as yet a vague but promising morsel in the city's thought. The newspapers, enabled by the event to indulge themselves more legitimately than usual in discussing the ever-fascinating problem of sex from the unimpeachable standpoint of reform, leaped greedily to the bait. Photographs of young women boarding streetcars and revealing stretches of leg were printed under the caption indecent way to board car, says Bazine.

Starting point is 09:49:17 Alongside were photographs, less interesting, but vital to the moral of the layout, showing women boarding streetcars without revealing their legs. The caption over them read, Correct way to board car, says Bazine. The text explained that the carelessness and immodesty of young girls, according to Bazine, frequently were the devil's ally, and that the Bazine Commission called upon all young women who had the welfare of the race at heart to board street cars in the correct way. Photographs of young women in indecent

Starting point is 09:49:54 bathing costumes appeared accompanied by denunciations from prominent clergymen, and contrasted, with editorial indignation, to photographs of decent bathing costumes recommended by prominent clergymen. Photographs of abandoned young women who affect the people. guarded garter purses, slit skirts, who crossed their legs when they sat down, were offered. These were accompanied by outraged pronouncements against such immodesties from prominent statesmen and clergymen. A private auxiliary crusade started by another enterprising newspaper resulted in a series of photographs of nude paintings to be seen in the shop windows of the Loop and Michigan Avenue and called for immediate designed to remove this source of moral danger.

Starting point is 09:50:46 Photographs of the deplorably scanty costumes worn by musical comedy, choruses and dancers in general, photographs pointing out with mute alarm the decline of modesty as instanced in the comparison of the fashions of yesteryear with the fashions of today. Photographs of dance hall scenes, showing couples amorously embraced, cheeks together, bodies riveted to each other. These and others, too numerous to tabulate, cried for the reader's indignant attention out of the newspaper columns.

Starting point is 09:51:23 Every conceivable variant of denunciation, which might be legitimately accompanied by a photograph of a woman or a group of women, received publication in interviews with pious divines, alarmed statesmen, and serious-minded welfare workers. the newspapers convinced by the twenty and thirty per cent increases in their weak circulation figures that the crusade was a vital part of the awakened moral sense of the city devoted themselves with heroic disregard of party politics to acclaiming the bazin commission bazin found himself troubled by his skyrocketing prestige he went to bed the first night as a judicial inquirer into the causes of vice he arose in the morning confronted with the fact that he was a fearless galahad on moral quest before retiring again he found himself a vice-salon attacking civic corruption and on the following morning he was bazin undaunted flay's vice-ring on the day before the opening session he occupied his chambers and tried to dictate his way through a mass of correspondence that had accumulated there were thousands of letters from determined churchgoers mothers fathers brothers brothers brothers

Starting point is 09:52:49 sisters all teeming with excited advice prayers for success and redundant congratulations ruth waited with her pencil on her notebook her knee pressed warmly against his thigh and her eyes looking pensively out of the window at the summer day bazin had obtained a three weeks vacation in order to devote himself to the work of the commission his words came unevenly as he dictated newspaper headlines glared at him from the desk modern lincoln to free vice slaves bazin to determine why girls go wrong bazin threatens fearless quiz into resorts his mind was alive with other headlines bazin basine the city was throbbing with his name he had managed to maintain a scepticism for several days doris had kept his mind distressingly clear with her comments and her friend levin her words had continued in his thought marvellous george the public is wallowing in an orgy of morbidity i confess it's beyond my pleasantest expectations he had protested she was wrong indignation was being stirred people were realizing the menace of underpaid working girls and unlicensed dance halls his sister smiled wearily don't be an ass or you'll spoil it all keep your head clear follow the newspapers and outwit them in cynicism and then levin he recalled the man's words and edited them into a rebuking essay the public is revelling in the salaciousness of nude photographs raw statements and your anti-vice propaganda

Starting point is 09:54:52 They're utilizing virtue as a cloak for the centrally tantalizing discussion of immorality. Their indignation is an excuse by which they apologize for their individual erotic thrills by denouncing evil in others. Yes, the mysterious others identified as vice-rings, white slavers, and immorality in general. The whole business is a cunning debauch offered newspaper readers. a debauch which enables them to appear to themselves and to each other not as debauchees but as high crusaders behind the banners of bazin and the good clergymen and the statesmen and the welfare workers rushing into print with revelations of immorality are inspired by nothing more intricate than a desire for publicity and an ambition to pose before the public in the guise of fellow crusades of fellow crusades. and civic benefactors. Their benefactions, you see, consist of offering the public lurid sex statistics over which it may gloat in secret. And in the meantime, over these benefactions,

Starting point is 09:56:08 over these exciting sex statistics and sexy photos, and over the people who discuss them and roll them over on their tongue, is thrown a protective fog of indignation. Bazzine had derived from these talks in his sister's studio an uncomfortable vision, but the vision had gradually dissolved in his mind. On the day he had awakened to find himself a moral champion promises vice-clean-up, the dignity and high responsibility of his task had overcome him. What appeared to him an authentic fervor mounted in his veins, hypnotized by the adulatory excitement surrounding his name, he acquired forthwith the characterization foisted on him by the headlines.

Starting point is 09:56:58 Bazine! Bazine! The city throbbed with his name. The hope of a great moral rejuvenation was centered upon him. Another St. Patrick was to drive the snakes of evil out of the community. Another Lincoln was to do something. something equally ennobling to himself and his fellowmen. The change affected his relations with Ruth.

Starting point is 09:57:25 For a month he had been engaged in a species of sinless amour. Long walks, long talks, long embraces behind the locked doors of his chambers, had resulted in nothing more tangible than a series of headaches and sleepless nights or unusual tenderness towards his piquantly startled wife. He had excused his infidelity to Ruth while embracing Henrietta. He regarded his exaggerated interest in his wife as a betrayal of the girl by assuring himself that it was for Ruth's own good. It lessened his desire for her

Starting point is 09:58:04 and thus decreased the moral danger into which their love was leading her. In addition to this, it was, of course, course, a convenient substitute for the emotions Ruth's embraces aroused in him, and for the sense of guilt which invariably accompanied these embraces. When he became a crusader, Bazine felt a further confusion in his attitude toward Ruth. He sat now, attempting to dictate letters. Despite the amiable blur which fame had introduced into his thought, and which for the past two weeks had obscured the details of his day, he found himself studying the situation before him. The situation was Ruth. He would have preferred ignoring it. The scent which came

Starting point is 09:58:54 from her summary shirt waist and the coils of her black hair thrilled him. Her clear, youthful face, the contours of her figure, the familiarity of her eyes. All this was pleasing and satisfying. But the new Bazine, the Crusader, felt ill at ease. He must explain something to Ruth, explain to her that their love was no more than an ennobling comradeship, and must never be more than that, a comradeship which would bring them together in this great cause of moral rejuvenation. He didn't want it put that crudely, but the idea kept repeating itself in his head, he kept thinking of what doris and her friend levin would say if they ever found out that in the midst of the vice investigation its chairman had been carrying on with his secretary it was distasteful and needed immediate attention he took her hand and ruth lay down her pencil she smiled expectantly at him since she had first kissed bazin a month ago she had been trying to understand the situation

Starting point is 10:00:08 the thought of him preoccupied her and this made her certain she loved him his caresses aroused her senses and left her wondering what was going to happen at times she reasoned coolly with herself she was in love with the married man and the most she could hope for was to become his mistress and end up by making a fool of herself or perhaps of both of them she was in a measure grateful for the manner in which he respected her virtue but with his arms around her and his keen face alive with passion and his lips on hers his reserve struck her as uncomplimentary and illogical she resented the semi-abandonment of his senses because of the unfulfillment a physical and spiritual unfulfillment which left her distracted it appeared to her later when the distraction ebbed as an affront to her vanity she was uncertain when thinking of it coolly whether she would give herself to him but somehow the affair seemed unreal at times even a little like some schoolgirl flirtation because he failed to ask her she had always prided herself upon her honesty and spent hours now debating with herself just how much she loved him, and if she loved him at all, and why she loved him. The idea of leaving his employ, however, never occurred to her.

Starting point is 10:01:49 The cautious sensualisms, of which she had become an excited victim, held her. There was in these incomplete maneuverings behind the locked doors a curious fascination. "'What is it, George?' He smiled and shook his head. whewf i'm snowed under his hands pushed the correspondence from him you mustn't tire yourself dear he nodded and his face assumed a serious air i would like to talk over the work the commission yes oh i think it's going to be a wonderful success george and you can help me he squeezed her hand this was the note he had been searching for in his mind he hesitated a moment nevertheless feeling an irritating incongruity in what he desired to say but the headlines glaring at him strengthened him he was bazin the moral champion the city was throbbing with his name a hope centered about his name

Starting point is 10:03:01 the work is going to be hard he began i intend to go to the bottom of the thing the commission after its hearings will be able to recommend legislation that will-that will yes i know george wipe out or at least go a long way toward wiping out his mind seemed to balk at the sentence the word immorality withheld itself from his lips i'll be glad to help or i can as you know dear she whispered i've subpoenaed all the department storeheads to bring their books into court i mean to the hearing and reveal exactly what the the wage scale for shop girls is. I'm convinced it's impossible for a girl to keep decent on $6 and $7 a week. He thought of the fact that Ruth was receiving $30 a week and grew confused. You can help me a lot, dear, he added hurriedly. Ruth stood up. This standing up had become a habit between them. When they were sitting, holding hands, if she stood up, he would draw her to him, and she would lower herself into his lap. They had developed a series of similar ruses,

Starting point is 10:04:25 to which they both adapted themselves, like well-rehearsed actors, and which had for their object the bringing them into positions convenient for kisses and embraces. As she sat down in his lap, the unhappy thought crossed Bazine's mind that he was chairman of a commission sworn to wipe out just such incidents as this from the city's life. He winced and her arm around his neck felt uncomfortable. But he remembered that both doors were locked and the image of himself as a crusader partially vanished. They kissed and his hand slipped down to her side and toyed with the hem of her skirt. Do you love me, George? Tell me. Yes, why do you ask that? Oh, because. Sometimes I think you're so busy that you haven't time to love. He was pleased by this. Flattered, he answered,

Starting point is 10:05:26 I have time for nothing else. Everything else is sort of part of it. My work, the commission, it's all you, dearest. his hand was on her caressingly he endeavored to remove the significance of the gesture by patting her knee as one might pat the head of a little child and whispering with an involved frankness you're so nice darling they had sat like this before sometimes for an hour whispering to each other their whispering would go on for a time even their kisses this however she murmured unexpectedly. Don't, George. He was surprised. Why not?

Starting point is 10:06:15 Because we mustn't. But why? Oh, please, don't. Her objection seemed to inspire him in a way her previous silences had failed to do. He grew indignant. Please don't. But why, dearest?

Starting point is 10:06:35 I love you. She paused, and he looked at her, aloof arguments in his eyes, as if he were pleading not in his own behalf, but in behalf of somebody else, a client. His knees were trembling under her weight. The crusade had disappeared. A memory of it lingered, but in an amusing way. He caught a glimpse of the headlines on his desk and grinned. There was something maliciously unreal. about life that one could enjoy.

Starting point is 10:07:09 Suddenly he felt her soften. Her lips brushed against his ear and her arm tightened convulsively around him. Please, no, she murmured. Her alarm delighted him. It was a final barrier, this alarm. It enabled him to enjoy the new conquest without having to be logical,

Starting point is 10:07:32 without having to go on. Her alarm now, was a barrier to be played with for a moment and then utilized. He would stop in a moment, but now he could play with her fear, as if he were intent upon overcoming it. Please, she whispered, don't, it's no use. The final words irritated him. No use. He felt offended, as if he had been trickily defeated in an argument. What was no use? what did she mean george please listen to me oh please that was better but it had come just in time he could retreat now with honor

Starting point is 10:08:20 for an instant a panic had filled him impossible to retreat on the explanation it's no use because-well because the words were a challenge not an attack but now it was easy he stiffened in his chair ruth slipped from his lap and stood up flushed she straightened her hair and looked away bazin felt annoyed with her she had almost taken him by surprise she had almost surrendered when the tactics of the game called for her to protest and thus cover his retreat by making it the result of her protests and not of his well of his determination not to forget his position but he would restore the tactic she had momentarily abandoned excuse me he muttered a pleiess voice i didn't realize i didn't realize what i was doing forgive me dearest he recovered his sense of self-respect that oddly enough had deserted him in making this apology he recovered his sense of self-respect that oddly enough had deserted him in making this apology The apology meant that he had ceased only because she had protested too violently, and not because he had been afraid. Ruth listened with a faint smile on her moist lips. She wanted to laugh.

Starting point is 10:09:49 "'I didn't mean anything, really,' he was saying. "'You must forgive me. Come here, please.' An air of soothing innocence rose from his voice and manner. he was reassuring her that he wasn't dangerous, that he wouldn't repeat these intimacies. The desire to laugh continued in her. Excuse him? For what? The laugh almost left her throat.

Starting point is 10:10:18 She had given herself to him, and he had solemnly retreated for no reason at all. She continued to smile. For the first time the distraction his caresses inspired in her, her was absent. Instead, she felt quite normal. She was becoming indignant, but normal, and there was amusement in her anger. She sat down and picked up her pencil. She was amused. She looked at a man who had become almost a stranger, and nodded, forgiveness. "'Of course, George,' she said. "'I know you didn't mean anything, but—' he frowned. her tone angered him she was mocking hadn't you better answer some of these she asked bazin pursed up his lips importantly

Starting point is 10:11:13 you will be a great help dear he answered some day i want to talk about something with you but-but matters are too rushed now i'm almost snowed under i swear this was putting it all on a different basis He was a busy man. That's why he had retreated. He was needed for other things of vital interest to the community. He felt uncomfortable, despite the dignity of his frown. She was regarding him with placid eyes. He turned to one of the newspapers, whose headlines were proclaiming the plans and threats of bazin.

Starting point is 10:11:55 There was the real bazine in the headline. This other one, the one, the one, the one, who had fumbled and messed things up with a girl, he ended his thought with annoyance. He despised himself. For a moment he glowered at her. He would stand up and seize her. She would realize then what his forbearance for her sake had been. His anger continued in his voice, as he resumed the tedious dictation,

Starting point is 10:12:27 Dear Governor, Everything is prepared for the opening. next Monday. I have arranged special seats for any of your friends who may desire to attend. We are ready to launch an efficient and systematic inquiry into the causes of the vice conditions in our city as well as state. Please. End of Chapter 19. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 20 of Gargoyles. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. recording by Roger Maline.

Starting point is 10:13:11 Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 20 The excitedly heralded vice investigation, which, after several thousand centuries of criminal neglect, was to take up the question of immorality, discover its causes, determine its remedies, and put an end to this blot upon civilization,

Starting point is 10:13:35 opened to a crowded house. The folding chairs introduced into the, ballroom by the corps of janitors were occupied but they were insufficient the core of janitors had underestimated the extent of the public enthusiasm men and women aflame with the ardor of crusade battled for place within hearing distance of the witnesses who were to recount under careful examination just why girls went wrong the ballroom was capable of seating a thousand another thousand tried their ways through the doors, and stood six and seven deep against the ornamental walls. The somewhat mythical portraits of French noblemen, Cupid's, Watoe, Ladies of Leisure, smiled urbanely out of the blue and white panels over their heads. The corridor outside the large room was thronged with still a third thousand,

Starting point is 10:14:33 pushing, prying, squeezing, and perspiring all in vain. The police had been somewhat. The press in its first pen picture of the stirring scene drew a significant distinction. Those within the ballroom who had successfully storned the doors and clawed their way into the weltering pulp of figures were identified as a distinguished audience of society women, welfare workers, civic leaders, and citizens come to lend their moral support to the Great Crusade. Those who had failed in their efforts to gain entrance, and who clung with patient heroism to the corridor,

Starting point is 10:15:14 the lobby downstairs, and even the boiling pavements outside, were dismissed scornfully as a crowd of the morbidly curious, hungry for the sensational details promised by the investigators. At ten o'clock the commission itself arrived. The perspiring police opened a passage through the three, and the commission filed to its place at the table, waiting at the end of the room. Newspaper photographers immediately leaped into concerted action.

Starting point is 10:15:48 The boom and smoke of flashlights arose. Delays and preliminaries followed. The room grew terrifically hot. Collars began to wilt, faces to turn red, feet to burn. But the delays continued. It was impossible to find out why there was delay. The crowd grew impatient. A racket of voices stuffed the room.

Starting point is 10:16:17 Something had gone wrong. Why didn't they start? They weren't doing anything. What were they waiting for? The public was grumbling. As a matter of fact, the commissioners were playing for time. A species of stage fright had overcome them. each of them had arrived filled with a sense of high purpose and benign power they were men upon whom the burden of lifting an age-old blot from the face of civilization had fallen

Starting point is 10:16:48 they had felt no hesitancy in the matter they were going to tackle the situation like americans red-blooded americans in whose heart burned the unfaltering light of idealism there was going to be no shilly-shallying no highfalutin theorizings they were going to the bottom of this matter without fear or favor they were going to find out just why girls went wrong and having found this out-outes They were going to remove the cause, or causes, if there were more than one, and thus put an end to immorality, at least in the great Commonwealth of Illinois. They were ten undaunted crusaders, inspired with the unfaltering consciousness of their country's power and rectitude. In fact, it was not the Bazine Commission which pushed through the throng, but the tradition of the United States. the revered memory of Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, and Nathan Hale, the army that had never been licked, the government of the people, by the people, and for the people, that was better than any other government on the face of the earth. These walked behind the policemen through the throng.

Starting point is 10:18:08 But there was a human undertone to this tradition about to grapple with the problem of vice. Like Bazine, each of the nine had, at the beginning, felt a slight discomfort. Their own pasts, and even presents, had risen in their thoughts to deride them. They were, alas, not without sin themselves. The dramatic coincidence was even possible that one of the witnesses called might point to a commissioner as the author of her ruin. This, in an oblique way, disturbed them. It lay like an indigestible fear upon the stomach of incarnated tradition. But as the patriotic fervor mounted in them, they were able somewhat to master this selfish fear.

Starting point is 10:18:58 Debating the matter vaguely in the silence of their own bedrooms, they had achieved an identical triumph. Yes, they were, after all, only men. They had sinned, were sinning regularly, in fact. But they would be ferned. fearless. They would strike out with no reserve, and if vice turned an accusing forefinger upon them, they would sacrifice themselves. The chances were, however, that this would not happen. They experienced the interrelation which comes with non-inconvenience and confession. Regardless of what they were in secret, they would be able to reveal themselves publicly

Starting point is 10:19:40 as men sitting in judgment upon vice, as execution. of vice. In this manner their material lives became unimportant accidents. They were able, within two weeks, to enter the public concept of themselves. Their actual selves became, in their own eyes, inferior and irrelevant. They had achieved an idealization. There was also another change. Once established in their own eyes as virgins, like Bazine, they They were soon under the hypnosis of headlines. As they walked to the hotel this morning, they had entirely rid themselves of their normal individualities.

Starting point is 10:20:25 They were no longer even ordinary virgins, embarked upon a vaguely scientific or social enterprise. They were, above that, the spokesman of an aroused public, the dignified containers of the power of the people. none of the ten, with the exception of Bazine, had given the actual work before him any thought. They had not prepared themselves for the task by study. All of them were serenely, in fact belligerently, ignorant of the scientific thought of the world on the subject. The involved disclosures of psychologists, philosophers, economists, and other specialists in race ethics,

Starting point is 10:21:09 were part of a childish abracadabra beneath their consideration, for they were the incarnated power of tradition and of public opinion, two grave forces which needed no guiding light from such sources. This power buoyed them and brought a stern light into their eyes. They believed in the people, and therefore in themselves as spokesmen. Ten shrewd wire-pulling politicians, whose careers were identically darkened with chicanery and crude cynicism, they were able by the magic of faith to rise above themselves.

Starting point is 10:21:49 They were able to feel the nobility of the phrases which they had so often utilized as cloaks for their private grids and private spites. These were the phrases of democracy which proclaimed to an odd populace that it, the populace, was master, and that its' words, will was a holy and unassailable force for progress and piety as spokesmen of the people these commissioners were concerned with furthering the great idealization of themselves which the people worshipped as their god reason was at war with this idealization reason was the species of morbid and inverted vanity which inspired man to disembowel himself as proof of his stupidity it grappled with his illusions crawled through his soul hamstringing his complacency it raised insidious voices around him wooing him to denude himself of hope faith and charity in short to become intolerable to himself the commissioners as spokesmen turned their backs upon it there was a happier outlet for the energies of man than the repudiation of himself as the glory of his own

Starting point is 10:23:07 God. There was the unreasoning struggle for idealization, the miracle by which man, seizing hold of his bootstraps, hoisted himself into heaven. This struggle, arousing the gaffaws and sneers of reason, was its own reward. It was the virtue that rewarded itself. The perspiring little scene in the hotel ballroom was a startling visualization of this happier struggle. regardless of their sins their greeds hypocrisies idiosies the people desired to see themselves as incarnation of an ideal this ideal had been carefully elaborated of late it had taken on a life of its own it had grown like a fungus feeding upon itself man staring at the heaven he had created was becoming awed by its magnificence and extent more than that this heaven was threatening to escape him to become incongruous by its very vastness there was danger that his idealization fattening upon a logic of its own would become a bit too preposterous even for worship already this idealization proclaimed him as an apostle of virtue as a moralist first and a biological product afterward as believing in the creto of virtue as believing in the creedo of virtue of virtue as a moralist first and a biological product afterward as believing in the creedo of

Starting point is 10:24:36 right over might in the equality of blacks whites poor and rich as a sort of animated sermon from the triple pen of a martyr president martyr husband and martyr messiah lost in a difficult admiration of this heaven the people struggled in the double task of keeping the idealization of themselves from becoming too preposterous and of persuasively identifying themselves with their image the result of this struggle was apparent in the puritanization of idea of becoming popular in the country a spirit of martyrdom was prevalent men and women were enthusiastically martyring themselves passing laws and formulating conventions in opposition to their appetites and desires in an excited effort to overtake this idealization of themselves righteousness was becoming a panic the christ image of the crowd was slowly obliterating its reality his halo was running away with man overcome with the necessity of keeping pace with the artificial virtues he had created as his god he was converting himself to the best of his talents into an outwardly epicene eye-rolling symbol of purity there was this mirror alive with his own godlike image and he must now be careful not to give the lie to the idealization of himself created partly by him and partly by the activity of logic the members of the vice investigating commission entered the crowded room serene in the knowledge that reason was their enemy and that god that mysterious cross between public opinion and yesterday's errors would vouchsafe them the power and keenness to cope with the problem before them

Starting point is 10:26:36 they were innocent of intelligence but they had faith in the principles of their country and the principles of their country were founded upon the great truth that what the people willed must come to pass to day the people of the commonwealth of illinois willed that vice and immorality be abolished from their midst therefore it must come to pass that the ten citizens lowering themselves into the seats behind the table were ten irresistible instruments animated by the strength of public opinion for several minutes after they had seated themselves the commissioners remained staring with dignity at the throng a vague and pleasant delirium occupied their minds the vice investigating commission had assembled and the business of removing the blot from the face of civilization would begin at once the commissioner sat pompously inanimate waiting for it to begin the spectacle before them the thousands of eyes focused upon their little group at the long table slowly awakened an uncomfortable disillusion in the commissioners in fact a little panic swept their minds they had of course discussed the issues past resolutions and laid plans for grappling with the situation but all these efforts had been part of the curious hypnosis which had overcome them the sense of their power hypnotized them into fancying that their star chamber babblings were in themselves thunderblots the sweeping promises the all-embracing statements and resolutions passed and issued for publication had filled them with an exalted sense of success they had entered the ballroom under the naive conviction that the whole business had been already successfully consummated

Starting point is 10:28:37 they were taking their seats at the table not to launch upon a task but to receive the plaudits of the public for great work already accomplished in fact to reap rewards for the noble utterances attributed to them by the press but now with the pads of paper the sharpened pencils the business-like cuspidors at their feet the ominous waste-paper baskets under their hands the commissioners faced the ghastly fact that the blot was still in the face of civilization untouched by their thunderbolts and some millions of people whose delegates were staring at them were waiting excitedly for it to be removed it occurred as if for the first time to the commissioners that something would have to be done about it their expressions underwent a change a pensiveness crept into their heavy faces a bewilderment dulled the dignity of their stairs. The room was unbearably hot. It was impossible to do any work in such a crowd. One could hardly hear oneself think above the noise. The commissioners frowned and whispered among themselves. Gradually a nervous jocularity came into their manner. Well, here we are. All set.

Starting point is 10:30:03 Hmm, I think we'd better call some witnesses. That's right. Call some witnesses. Where's Judge Bazine? Talking over there. Huh, why don't he do something? Yes, why didn't Judge Bazine take charge of his flock? It was his commission. The papers all said it was the Bazine commission. Then why didn't he start something, instead of gabbing around with reporters? Good God, what a heat.

Starting point is 10:30:36 Hasn't the management provided any fans? Where's a bell boy? We'll send him after some fans. Think a dozen'll be enough? Nothing doing. Three or four dozen at least. I'll wear out a dozen myself before this day's over. Believe me. Say, ain't that right? Oh, judge, judge. Yes, what is it, Senator?

Starting point is 10:31:05 What about the witnesses? Are we going to have any witnesses? Of course, I'm just getting things ready. That's right, there's no rush. Open that window, won't you, Jim? God, what a mob. Well, we'd better do something, don't you think? Leave it to Bazine. Got a knife, Harry? This pencil's full of bum lead. The whisperings and d'clock. delays continued. Bazine, however, began to recover himself. The eager, focused eyes of the room were slowly electrifying him. His gestures were becoming more dignified. His manner acquired

Starting point is 10:31:50 a definiteness. The eyes regarding him saw a man with sharp features and an imperious expression moving with what seemed significant deliberation, examining papers, studying papers, opening papers, extracting papers, returning papers. Instinctively they felt that here, centered in this cautiously dynamic figure, was the celebrated vice investigation. Bazine arose, a gavel in his hand, and pounded the table.

Starting point is 10:32:25 The noises subsided as if a presence were being expelled from the room. The hush served to illumine the figure of Bazine. The eyes waited. His voice arose, definite, impelling. Fellow citizens, the Vice Investigating Commission appointed by the state of Illinois to determine if possible the causes of immorality and to remove wherever possible such causes is now in session. The purposes of this commission need no further explanation. We are assembled here in the name of the people of this state, to do all in our power to grapple with the problem of vice and its many auxiliary problems.

Starting point is 10:33:12 This problem is today the outstanding menace to the welfare of our community. Its dangers touch us all. The immoral man and the immoral woman, the factors which contribute to their immorality, are our responsibility. This is no sentimental outburst, no vague uprising, but an organized official investigation with full powers to uncover facts. We are not here to dabble in theories, but to dabble with facts. And for that purpose, and that purpose only, we are assembled under the laws of our state

Starting point is 10:33:52 and the constitution of our country. The first witness called will be Mr. Arthur CORE. Applaus thundered. Bazine flushed, sat down. The commissioners on each side of him breathed with relief. Something had been started. To their intense surprise, Mr. Arthur Cora actually arose from one of the witness chairs and came forward. Mr. Core was head of the largest department store in the city.

Starting point is 10:34:26 Bazine, with an instinct in which he placed implicit reliance, had summoned him first. thus abandoning the plans the commission had decided upon in Star Chamber. It had been decided upon to save up the big guns for a climax. Bazine's instinct warned him as he stood in his feet talking that a climax was necessary immediately, a gesture which would at once reveal the power and fearlessness of the commission. Mr. Korr was the medium for such a gesture. venerated as one of the wealthiest men of the city, the head of its most widely advertised and magnificent retail establishment,

Starting point is 10:35:10 to hail him before the commission and belabor him with queries, would be to capture the confidence of the public forthwith. As Mr. Corr, accompanied by two lawyers and a secretary laden with ledgers, advanced toward the table a sudden misgiving struck Bazine, How much would the newspapers dare print about Mr. Corr, particularly if the cross-examination placed him and his establishment in an unfavorable light? Mr. Corr meant upwards of $3 million a year in advertising revenue. Perhaps he had made a mistake in calling him. The press would turn and fly from the commission as from a plague. There would be no headlines, and the public would fall away.

Starting point is 10:35:59 bazin stood up as mr core approached he was a smartly dressed man with a cream-colored handkerchief protruding against a smoothly pressed blue coat an affable reserved face that reminded bazine of milton ware and the michigan avenue club poise suavity courtesy exuded from mr core how do you do judge he said with a bow and gentlemen of the commission bazin extended his hand and promptly regretted the action he had caught the emotion of the crowd he realized that his instinct had not betrayed him mr core was one of the most venerated citizens in the community venerated for his person power, his success, and his aloofness from his venerators. The summoning of Mr. Cora to take his place and be cross-examined by the commission had sent a thrill through the crowd. They felt the elation of a pack of beagle dogs, with a magnificent stag brought to earth under their little jaws. Mr. Cora was rich, powerful, brilliant. But they, the people, were greater than he. There he stood obedient to their delegated spokesman, the fearless Bazine, and gratitude

Starting point is 10:37:27 filled them, as they noted Bazine was a head taller than the great Mr. Corr, and that the great Bazine was not at all confused by the presence of this famed personage. Bazine, as he felt the emotion of the crowd, knew simultaneously that the newspapers caught between their two vital functions, that of ensuring their revenue by respectful treatment of its source, the advertising plutocracy, and of ensuring their popularity by the fearless advocacy of any current crowd hysteria, must follow the less dangerous course. And the less dangerous course now, as always, was with the beagle-dogs who had brought a stag to Earth. After the handshake, Bazine looked severely about him.

Starting point is 10:38:18 He was pleased to observe that his colleagues were non-existent. They sat coughing, sharpening pencils, and gazing with vacuous aplomb at objects about them. He smiled with inward contempt, little puppets under his hands. And the crowd before him, a smear of little puppets. even the all-powerful newspapers, even the mighty Mr. Arthur Corps, he could manipulate them because there was something in him that was not in other people.

Starting point is 10:38:53 A sense of drama, perhaps. But more than that, an understanding, a vision that enabled him to see clearly over the heads of people into the future. He could tell in advance which way people were going to turn, and he could hurry forward and be. be there waiting for them, a leader waiting for them when they caught up. A curious question slipped into his mind. Why am I like that?

Starting point is 10:39:22 And then another question. Why am I able to do things? The questions pleased him, and as he followed Mr. Corr into his chair, he knew that the crowd had noticed that Judge Bazine was a man unimpressed by the greatness of Mr. Corr. that the eyes focused on him had thrilled with the knowledge that he bazin was dressed as well as mr core and that his own dignity and sternness were more impressive than the poise of mr the great mr core was second fiddle in the show bazine was first fiddle and the crowd was thrilled by that because bazin was their man their leader and mr core venerated to this moment was now their enemy.

Starting point is 10:40:13 Bazine was a man in whom the dignity of the people shone out more powerfully than the prestige of an enviable individual. These things whirled through Bazine's thought, as he turned to the witness. Mr. Stenographer, he announced, you will please make accurate transcription of all questions and answers that follow. A naive pride filled the intent of commissioners.

Starting point is 10:40:39 the investigation was after all a success regardless of what happened the mere fact that arthur cora was to be interrogated on the subject of immorality among working girls constituted an overwhelming success the conviction which now delighted them was shared by the thousands in the room and by the newspaper men scribbling at an adjoining table all present felt certain that so dramatic a situation as the cross-examination of Mr. Arthur Corr by the chairman of the Vice Investigating Commission was bound to result somehow in the instant removal of the blot from the face of civilization. Bazine, clearing his throat, began the questioning. Your name? Arthur Core. Your position?

Starting point is 10:41:34 President of Corp. plane and company. That is the retail merchandise establishment in this city? It is. A full five minutes was consumed in the exchange of profound introductions. This concluded Mr. Corr was informed what the purposes of the Vice Investigation Commission were. The information failed to impress him.

Starting point is 10:42:01 Whereupon he was informed that he, as an employer of thousands of girls, girls, had been called to throw light on a vital question. First, what wages did his employees receive? Mr. Corr, raising his eyebrows and looking aggrieved, as if he had been asked a very crude and tactless question, replied that the average wage was $10 a week for the young women in his employ. Did he think a young woman could keep virtuous on $10 a week? Alas, he had never given him.

Starting point is 10:42:36 given that phase of the economic system any thought. But if his opinion as an individual was worth anything, he would offer the philosophical observation that wages had nothing to do with immorality. A cynical observation. The crowd frowned. It didn't, eh? Lot he knew about it.

Starting point is 10:42:59 And on what did he base this cold-blooded point of view? Well, on nothing in particular, except his common sense. Indeed, his common sense. Well, well, so he thought that a normal young woman could live on ten dollars a week, feed, clothe, and house herself on ten dollars a week,

Starting point is 10:43:22 and never feel tempted to earn more money by sacrificing her virtue? Alas, he had not thought of it in that way. He had merely thought that good young women were good and bad young women were bad, and wages had nothing to do with it it was human nature what human nature to be bad mr arthur cora was inclined to a cynicism which fortunately the great minds of the nation did not share had he ever sought to determine how many good girls there were in his employ no but he presumed they were all good if they weren't he was sorry for them, but it was their own fault.

Starting point is 10:44:09 Thus the seesaw continued, while the room grew hotter, while people packed against each other listened with distended eyes and opened mouths. Thus the commissioners, recovering from their panic, began to frown with importances, and Bazine, still following the instinct in him, the sense of contact he felt with a crowd and situation, played another trump card, the afternoon newspapers were blazoning the news of mr arthur core the morning papers would need an equally dramatic morsel bazin adjourned the session to reconvene at three o'clock the crowd remained the heat increased the session reconvened it was business-like now it was running like a machine no more delays and indecisions call miss winona johnson bazin sat amid heaps of documents ledgers and commissioners in charge it was he who asked the questions whose face was the battle-front of the people versus vice

Starting point is 10:45:23 your name winona johnson your occupation a pause and then in a lowered voice a prostitute what was that from mr stenographer a prostitute from bazin clearly and indignantly sensation she was a prostitute this yellow-haired gaudy creature in the witness-chair she had her nerve how long have you been a prostitute winona johnson well two years i guess she guessed as if she didn't know and before that what were you she was a clerk where were you employed as a clerk winona where oh i worked for the core plane and company there it was the sort of thing that made climaxes a new lead for the morning papers a new thrill for the tired breakfasters tells tragic story of moral downfall and this Then in smaller headlines, Former State Street Clerk Uncovered snares, pitfalls of city,

Starting point is 10:46:41 and then photographs, comparisons between Mr. Kor's statements and Miss Johnson's statements. Mr. Kor's picture and Miss Johnson's picture side by side, so that one might almost think, unless one read carefully, and who did that, that the venerated Mr. Arthur Corr

Starting point is 10:47:02 had been exposed by the all-pice, powerful Bazine Commission as the seducer of the pathetic Miss Winona Johnson. Through the weltering afternoon, the great investigation progressed, Bazine, unaided, carrying the fight. A champion, an undaunted one, his voice growing hoarse, his eyes flashing tirelessly, his questions never failing, incisive, compelling questions that seemed for all the the world as if they were slowly, tenaciously coming to grips with the devil.

Starting point is 10:47:40 A great day for the Commonwealth of Illinois. A day surfeited with climaxes. Winona Johnson wept and the courteous voice of Bazine pressed for facts. Here was a mine of facts. Here a witness who could reveal something, and she did. That will be all, thank you, from Bazine. Winona arose. Eyes devoured her. A terrible curiosity played over her face and body. Civilization had been stunned.

Starting point is 10:48:15 Everyone knew, of course, that prostitute sold themselves to men. But to so many? Horrible. A revelation to make thinking men think. Thinking women, too. If there had been any doubt in the public mind concerning the sincerity, of the commission, this day had removed it. Two welfare workers and a second department store owner concluded the bill. The newspapers spread the questions and answers through the city.

Starting point is 10:48:48 A determined light came into the eyes of the millions who read. The Commonwealth was at grips with evil. Facts had been exhumed in a single session that were intolerable to a civilized community? A hue and cry would be raised. Things would be done. The millions' reading felt this. Something would have to be done. Resolutions would be passed. Thunderbolts would be hurled by civic bodies, lodges, clubs. The thing called for action, action, and more action. But wait and see what the morning papers would have to say. There would be remedy. There would be in the morning papers. Things would be done overnight by the morning papers to put an end to this iniquity, prostitution. And there could be no question but that underpaid workers were driven

Starting point is 10:49:45 to lives of shame. And the dance halls, they hadn't gotten around to them yet. And factories and hotels. Wait till it came their turn. They would all be grilled, quizzed, flayed. Bazine made his way slowly through the throng. Tomorrow's session would begin at eleven o'clock. He was tired. The work had exhausted him. But his head felt clear. Without raising his eyes,

Starting point is 10:50:17 he understood the admiration of the crowds through which he was moving. They were repeating his name among themselves, saying, There he goes. That's him. He had understood things in this manner all day, without giving them words.

Starting point is 10:50:34 He felt at peace. He had gone through a test. Now he knew he was a leader. The thing of which he had been afraid had turned out to be easy. He smiled, remembering his colleagues. Simple, blundering men who had floundered around trying to horn in.

Starting point is 10:50:55 But this wasn't the Private Banks crusade, not by a long shot. Ah, that was playing. a long shot, calling KOR like that, but it had worked. Newsies were yelling around him, extra, all about.

Starting point is 10:51:12 About Bazine, of course, about him. Yes, there was leadership in him. He was a man who could sweep people along with him. The crowds were going home. All these people belong to him. Constituents. He smiled pleasantly at the hurrying figures.

Starting point is 10:51:35 It was hot, and they were perspiring. Their eyes were filmed with preoccupations. But what would happen if they were told suddenly that Judge Bazine was passing them, rubbing shoulders with them? Their eyes would brighten. They would forget about the things that were worrying them. They would look up and smile, perhaps cheer.

Starting point is 10:52:00 Daydreams lifted his. his thought out of the present. This thing was only a beginning. He would go on. There was a kinship in him with people. The memory of the day lay like a love in his heart. He was still young, years ahead of him, and he would end—where? High up! He looked around and noticed he was walking towards Doris's studio. Odd he hadn't been aware where he was going. but he might as well he frowned she would ridicule what had happened well that was all right her hatred of such things couldn't wipe out what was in his heart now he became practical think of to-morrow's session but why the details were annoying he had had enough details for one day he would take care of things when the proper time came this was a sort of reward to walk and dream as for the blot on the face of civilization yes that would all be taken care of at the proper time

Starting point is 10:53:13 but the important thing the most important thing was bazin high up end of chapter twenty recording by roger maline chapter twenty one of gargoyles this librovoc's recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline gargoyles by ben hecht chapter twenty one schroeder looked at his watch late perhaps she wouldn't come intellectual women were always the most uncertain it was twilight summer bloomed incongruously in the small city park she probably didn't mean it anyway he thought ruth appeared walking calmly down the broad pavement he watched her she had come but the business was still uncertain amorous affairs were one thing seduction was another he liked her of course but what if she had notions about things love fidelity virtue marriage decency oh well he could always step away and say good-bye i'm sorry hello he said aloud you're late i wasn't coming i didn't think so either she was one of the kind who made a pretense of frankness if you let her she would talk about sex till the cows came home as if it were a problem in algebra he knew the kind full of a kind full of theories. Where shall we go, Paul? Let's sit here a while. How's his honor? I don't know. I resigned

Starting point is 10:55:20 last week. Is that so? Yes, after the commission adjourned for the summer. The memory of the commission made him smile. Goofy, he said. She nodded. But Judge Bazzine is made, don't you think? He took her hand. So you left him, he smiled. They sat in silence. He would wait for her to take the lead. She began talking as the part grew darker. I didn't intend coming, she said, because I know what you want. Her voice quivered and her fingers tightened over his hand. But I came to tell you, I can't. I'm not feeling foolish or anything, but it isn't worth it. He looked at her and wondered. The invitation was clear. He must begin pleading now and making love. He hesitated because she had started crying.

Starting point is 10:56:27 Tears were on her cheeks. She was remembering Bazine. Don't, he would. I wouldn't ask you to do anything like that. We've talked, of course, but that was just talk. Ruth, I love you. But love doesn't mean anything to you, she answered. And the answer to that was marriage. He hesitated. Tears always stirred him.

Starting point is 10:56:56 Now it was dark. He placed an arm around her. The stiffening of her body decided him. we'll get married he said the assurance did not delight her marriage was something foreign but she stood up when he asked her to and followed him she walked along thinking of herself as if there were two ruths one was walking with a man where the other was thinking about things but there was little to think about if it had been bazin and Instead of this other, it would have been nicer. Bazine was someone she knew. Paul was a stranger.

Starting point is 10:57:42 But Bazine had played with her. He had said nothing when she went away. Merely looked at her and nodded. His success had gone to his head. He didn't want her, even to flirt with anymore. He was too busy. She put her arms around the stranger and wept. it was minor tragedy there was nothing to weep about nobody cared what happened to her if there had been somebody who cared she would never have met him

Starting point is 10:58:15 schroeder watched her and sighed if you don't love me he said it's not that she answered she was forgetting about her tears her close presence to him was slowly preoccupying her he loved her and they would be married it didn't matter much but the idea made it a little easier she kissed him timidly at first and then with passion schroeder grimaced inwardly it was dark and she couldn't see his eyes they were worried he had been in love for a few minutes in the park he would have liked to remain in love he sat before the window thinking why did women insist on climaxes their arguments made it necessary for men to plead the culmination was a sort of logical gesture he walked toward her he would take her hand and make love he felt sad and making love out of sadness was always an interesting diversion ruth he whispered do you love me she answered by embracing him always the same he murmured to himself it's no use end of chapter twenty one recording by roger maline chapter twenty two of gargoyles this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger maline gargoyles by ben hecht chapter twenty two the children were asleep and henrietta was reading bazin in his slippers and smoking-jacket sat unoccupied

Starting point is 11:00:23 their new house worried him he had not yet familiarized himself with its shadows he smiled as he watched his wife he was going to run for senator but that made no difference to her he was a husband to her and everything else was incidental he thought of ruth her name no longer depressed him during the first three or four months that followed her absence he had felt as if his career had ended there was nobody to succeed for any more then through doris he had learned that she was to marry schroeder the information had cured him he had been despising himself for letting her go. Now he was able to pretend that he had been forced by her virtue to relinquish her. It would have been a dastardly thing to do, ruin her and prevent her from marrying and living a decent life. Her marrying vindicated his own virtue. He was able to think that he had done the right thing. Not only that, but he had done the only thing possible. She had fled from him because he was a married man.

Starting point is 11:01:37 then too she probably didn't love schroeder not as she had loved him she was marrying him broken-heartedly he sometimes played with this notion it pleased him his sadness at the thought of her in another man's arms was mitigated by the twofold thought that her heart was broken and that she was in reality embracing marriage and not a man he no longer desired her he was too busy for one thing still things were different she had been an inspiration now he went on with his plans and his climb without feeling the excitement that had filled him during their year together there was no one in front of whom to pose this made posing a rather thankless business and he became practical in his thoughts less dramatic in his lies henrietta had put aside her paper and was looking at him are you tired she asked he shook his head he began to think about her what did she do all day since ruth had left his desire to leave his wife had vanished he paused confused she was weeping what's the matter he asked she lowered her head nothing she said a vivid memory hurt him he remembered kissing her for a first time in his mother's kitchen years ago it seemed now that she had been alive and beautiful that evening that was gone has anything happened he asked softly her head shook

Starting point is 11:03:30 He came to her side and looked at her. He felt helpless. What was there to make her cry? I don't know, George, she said as if answering his silent question. Please forgive me. I'd just started to cry for nothing. Worried about something, he pressed. He felt guilty.

Starting point is 11:03:55 She was crying because of the things he had done. But what did he done? nothing wrong he had put the wrong things out of his life and for her sake why should she weep about that then he was the one to weep and if she had her children her father was alive he remained silent recounting what he tried to consider anti-weeping reasons nothing george she answered i'm-i'm just getting old he frowned and turned away later when they lay in bed he took her in his arms she had apparently forgotten about her tears and their curious explanation but he began to talk to her old he whispered you're not getting old don't be silly at least no more than i am i'm older than you he held her close to him and his mind embraced a memory that was not his wife he held but someone else a vivacious happy girl ten years ago no more than that almost fourteen years ago he lay remembering another henrietta a charming delightful child he had never been in love with her this he knew but the knowledge had slowly died when he embraced her at night a dream obscure

Starting point is 11:05:30 his memory. The dream was that he had once loved her, that she had once been beautiful, that his heart had once sung with a desire for her. He played with this dream. It was a make-believe that saddened him, yet it made the moment more tolerable. Sometimes it even brought a curious happiness. His dream would pretend that the scrawny figure he was holding had once filled him with ecstasies. His dream would whisper to him that he had once idolized her, and that once, once, he would lie editing his sterile memories of her into glowing once upon a times, and when his kisses sought her cold lips, it would be to this dream Henrietta they gave themselves, a Henrietta who had never been. It was sad to pretend in this way that his great love had died,

Starting point is 11:06:28 and that his beautiful one had faded. But it was not as sad as to remember when he kissed her that there had never been anything. He felt tired when he left the house the next morning. The business of preening for the senatorial race annoyed him. The goal lured but the details to be managed were aggravating. He started as he opened the door of his chambers. Ruth!

Starting point is 11:06:58 He stood looking at her without words. She was pale, and there was something curious about her. She didn't look the same. You looked surprised, she smiled. He noticed how spiritless she was. But you don't mind my coming here, do you? I've been trying to get you. She turned her eyes away.

Starting point is 11:07:24 He had finally discovered the change, a physical one. Well, he exclaimed, I hadn't heard the good news. How's Paul? So she was married, and had kept it secret. He smiled. He remembered other scenes in the room. The doors locked, her arms around him. All that was over now. Before her motherhood, even the memory of it seemed less certain. There is no good news. she was saying I've come to see if you can help me they sat down Bazine nodded money poor girl Schroeder was always an ass about things he's gone away she went on

Starting point is 11:08:17 and and I'd like to locate him who Paul she covered her face so he had deserted her, and she had come back to him. A momentary excitement entered his thought, but he frowned immediately. It was distasteful to think of what might have been, if not for this. An amazement came into his eyes. He stared at her as she talked. She had been ruined by Schroeder, and he had never married her. And when she had refused medical interference, He had calmly left the city. He listened blankly and could think of nothing to say. Oh, George, you must help me.

Starting point is 11:09:08 Help her. He must help her. After she had lived with this man for months, giving herself to him. He stood up and walked down the room. It was like he used to do, pace up and down in front of her. He wanted to talk, but he found it hard. A rage was coming into his mind that obscured his words.

Starting point is 11:09:33 The rage continued. Pausing in the center of the room, Bazine began to swear. His voice had grown high-pitched. Damn, he shouted at her, and you came to me. Me! You bring your filthy sins to me! Damn his dirty soul! Yes, you're fine.

Starting point is 11:09:58 you are leaving me to go with that chippy chaser i thought i thought you were somebody he stopped his fist in the air she was walking away ruth he called after her listen wait a minute the door closed after her bazin stood watching the door she would open it and come back but the door remained shut He seated himself at his desk. Moments passed, and he was surprised to wake up and hear himself mumbling. The dirty skunk! I'll wring his neck. She had given herself to Schroeder, not married him. The part he had played in her ruin forced itself with a nauseating insistency into Bizzine's mind. His memories seized him.

Starting point is 11:10:56 He struggled, but the few. things he knew leaped out of hiding places and assaulted him. She had loved him, and he had loved her. Life had seemed marvelous with her close to him. His career, his day, its simplest detail, had been colored with delicious excitement. But he had been afraid to reach out and take what he wanted. It would have meant success, happiness, and something else. The word beauty withheld itself. It would have meant these things. But he had feared possession. He had let her go away after kissing her and telling her that he loved her.

Starting point is 11:11:39 So she had gone walking in the street and fallen into the arms of the first man she met. It was plain. Bazine writhed under triumphant accusations. A torment filled him. He must escape from the accusations. He pried himself away from his thoughts and took his place on the bench. Other people's troubles again. Disputes, wrangles, testimonies.

Starting point is 11:12:09 His ears listened mechanically. Lawyers were pleading with him. Witnesses were stammering. He sat with a scowl and hunched forward in his chair. His lean face thrust itself at the courtroom. Thoughts too intolerable for his attention whirled sickeningly in a background. Pictures of Ruth in the man's arms, of her surrender, of the intimacies of their illicit fare, forced themselves upon him. He loved her.

Starting point is 11:12:43 Oh, damn him, sang itself darkly through his heart. There was one mocking intruder that raised a vociferous head. You might have had her. not he. She might have been yours if you hadn't been afraid. It was this that nauseated most. Not Schroeder's villainy, but his own cowardice. He had lost through cowardice. The day dragged itself along. He had recovered in part the rage which protected him from the intolerable memories. When he left the courtroom, it was with a viciousness in his step. His feet stamped down as he walked, as if they were attacking the pavements.

Starting point is 11:13:30 He entered a saloon several blocks from the city hall. The place was almost deserted. A few business-like-looking men were grouped before the long bar. They were laughing. Bazine passed them, and a voice called his name. He turned and saw a familiar face in one of the small booths against the wall. It was Levine, the newspaper man. Hello, Judge. Come on over and sit down.

Starting point is 11:14:02 Bazine narrowed his eyes. The man was partially drunk. His drawn face, usually pale, was flushed, and his sneering black eyes were bloodshot. He sat down opposite Levine with a greeting. A waiter brought drinks. What's up, Judge, you seem. seem rather low, Levine laughed quietly.

Starting point is 11:14:27 The world been falling on your nose? Ha, have another. Here, waiter! They sat drinking, the newspapermen lost in a mysterious excitement that gathered in his voice. The excitement soothed, Bazine. The drinks brought a haze into his mind. He became aware that the man was talking about his sister. He was leaning forward.

Starting point is 11:14:53 a black forelock over his bloodshot eye his arm thrown out on the table and talking in a languorous voice about doris drowning my troubles judge he was saying it's easier to drink yourself into forgetfulness than to lie yourself into forgetfulness eh and besides you grow sick of lying eh nobody lies more than me and i know i know but it ain't my fault She's gone mad about him. You know him, Lindstrom, the poet? Been mad about him for years. And it gets worse. That's all that's the matter with her. He ran away years ago, and she's gotten a phobia about people.

Starting point is 11:15:42 Because he's the people's poet. Ha, she's told me about you, George. Got an idea of making this man Lindstrom sick by showing him how rotten people are. and using you. See? But where do I come in? No-where. No-where. Just gabbing for years, and I don't come in nowhere. Get me? This damn newspaper drool has eaten into me. She's the only one I wanted. But I don't come in, see? She's mad, gone mad. Bazzine's thought avoided the man's words. sat with a blissful vacuity.

Starting point is 11:16:26 They drank till it grew night. Bazine, as if recalling himself, walked out. The newspaper man lay across the table, his head asleep on his arm. The night was cool. A curious impulse to let go, came to Bazine. He would go somewhere and find women and noise. He walked along, thinking about this. When he had walked for an hour,

Starting point is 11:16:53 the impulse was gone. The haze was slipping from him. He recalled things Levine had said, something about Lindstrom, the poet. His mind played with Lindstrom. He had seen him, where? Oh, yes, long ago. That was before he'd become famous. Now he was a great poet. Hell with everything. Get the senatorship and let things slide. he walked along toward his home henrietta would be asleep he sighed the night was cool everything all right in the morning now everything all wrong but in the morning his stride quickened he felt half asleep and as he moved over the deserted pavement he began mumbling i love you george i love you End of Chapter 22. Recording by Roger Maline.

Starting point is 11:18:05 Chapter 23 of Gargoyles. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 23. Doris was ill. The doctor had telephoned her mother, and Mrs. Bazine was sitting beside the bed,

Starting point is 11:18:28 holding Doris's hand. A man she remembered vaguely was standing in a corner of the room smoking. It was the poet, Lindstrom, who was once a friend of Doris. He had been there when she arrived, standing by the window and smoking while the doctor was fixing an ice pack on Doris's head. The doctor had been unable to make a diagnosis. She had a fever, but they would have to wait for more definite symptoms. As the twilight filled the studio, Mrs. Bazine grew frightened.

Starting point is 11:19:05 She thought at moments Doris was dead, she lay so still. She watched the half-closed eyes anxiously. Perhaps Doris would die, and George was in Washington. She had telegraphed, but he couldn't arrive till the next day. She sat wondering about her daughter. She remembered her as a child. than as a girl. Changes, changes, she sighed.

Starting point is 11:19:34 Changes that excited one, but all they did was bring one nearer to this. She was thinking of death. How do you feel now, Doris? No answer. The burning eyes continued to stare. The hand she held remained limp and dry in her fingers. Perhaps it was nothing serious,

Starting point is 11:19:57 merely a fever. She sat nodding her head at her thoughts. She thought of how her children had grown up and gone away. Fanny, George, Doris, Aubrey, Henrietta, Mrs. Gilchrist, Judge Smith, and the grandchildren. These were the names of her family. They were part of her. Yet while the rest of the world grew more and more familiar, they grew more and more strange. does it pain you anywhere doris no answer poor little doris she stroked her face life had used her differently she felt this she knew nothing of what doris had done or dreamed

Starting point is 11:20:45 but the staring eyes frightened her and she understood george frequently called her queer yet george was in a way proud of her He used to seek Doris out, and many people had talked of her as a very unusual young woman. But life had used her curiously, not like other girls. Perhaps it was a man. She turned toward the figure in the corner. He was standing, holding a pipe to his mouth. What if it was a man? Scandal.

Starting point is 11:21:22 Mrs. Bazine sighed. What was scandal? It was only a way of looking at facts. She would take her home with her. Poor little Doris living alone in this place and sitting here night after night dreaming of things. That was sad. Listen, dear, do you want something?

Starting point is 11:21:44 No answer. The doctor said he would be back after dinner and bring a nurse. She would ask him if Doris could be moved and then take her home. It was growing darker in the room. Someone was knocking. She opened the door. It was another man. He came in and then paused.

Starting point is 11:22:07 Is Doris ill? He asked. Mrs. Bazine nodded. I am her mother, she said. Levine looked at her and introduced himself. You know Mr. Lindstrom, she added. Levine stared at the room. the poet in the shadows and said, yes, I know him.

Starting point is 11:22:29 How do you do? said Lindstrom, slowly. Doris reached her hand up as Levine approached the bed. He took it, and she whispered, Don't go away. She tried to rise. You mustn't, dear, her mother cautioned. Oh, yes, Doris's voice appeared to be growing stronger. i want to sit up help me max he arranged the pillows the ice-pack fell from her head she smiled

Starting point is 11:23:05 you haven't eaten anything mother she added please there's a restaurant around the corner mrs bazin stood up it might be better to go away for a while despite her daughter's momentary recovery her fears had increased she felt felt something curious about Doris. But perhaps it was just a fever. She left the room with a final glance at the flushed face. Doris had always been strange, but there was something disturbing about her now. Her daughter's eyes, watching her opening the door,

Starting point is 11:23:44 chilled her heart suddenly. She held herself from rushing to her side and taking her in her arms. She didn't know why, but she was certain there was something strange about Doris. She walked into the hall. Yes, she was certain something terrible was going to happen. When the door closed, Doris sat against the pillows.

Starting point is 11:24:09 Her white face turned toward Lindstrom in the shadows. Did you hear we were going to war, Leif? she asked. Behind his pipe in the shadows, the gray-faced figure of Lindstrom nodded. george is a senator she added he's going to declare war relief you remember my brother george doris you mustn't levin whispered lie back please she covered her face and her body shuddered the filthy ones are going to war come closer leaf i want to see you lindstrom approached the bed doris turned to levin the pack is going to war did you see their eyes shining in the street and their mouths gloating a new terror eh she threw her hands into her hair and her eyes centered suddenly on linstrum he was standing over her doris began to laugh and to climb out of bed she stood up barefooted in her nightgown her black hair down and pointed out of the window don't laveen took her hand you'll catch cold her eyes were illustrious linstram caught her in his arms she had leaned toward him as if she were falling her body was vividly hot he held her and she began to laugh

Starting point is 11:25:42 Better lie down, he whispered. The laugh grew louder. Her hand, with its fingers extended and pointing, wavered toward the window. She tried to talk, but the laughter in her throat prevented. She hung loosely in his arms, laughing and waving her hands. The window, she gasped.

Starting point is 11:26:07 Look out and see. We had better get her into bed, Levine whispered. Lindstrom nodded. But Doris pulled herself from his hold. She stumbled and fell to her knees before the window. The room was dark and the streetlights threw a faint glare over her face. She knelt with her hands to her neck and her eyes swinging.

Starting point is 11:26:32 Look out, cried Levine. Doris screamed. The beast! The beast! She had thrown herself forward with the shriek, but Lindstrom's hands had caught her. The window glass broke. The two men carried her into the bed. Her head fell back on the pillow. She lay with her eyes open.

Starting point is 11:26:57 Lindstrom sat leaning over her. Doris, he whispered. Her eyes regarded him without recognition. It's happened, muttered Levine. Lindstrom's hand passed over her forehead and slipped down the loose hair. The fever's gone, he said softly. Yes, he repeated, the fever's gone now. Mrs. Bazine returned.

Starting point is 11:27:27 Doris, her eyes open, was lying as if dead. Her mother rushed to the bed, crying her name. She was breathing. The fever was gone. her body was almost cool. She was out of her head for a while, Lindstrom whispered. Talk to me, please, dearest. Doris sighed and looked around.

Starting point is 11:27:53 They made no move as she sat up. She left the bed and returned from a closet with a wrap over her nightgown. They watched her until her eyes turned toward them, expressionless, dead eyes. Mrs. Bazine clasped her hands together and trembled. "'We must call the doctor at once,' she whispered. She went to the telephone. Dora sat down in a chair near the window. Her head sank and she gazed out.

Starting point is 11:28:26 The expressionless eyes grew clouded. Tears were coming out. She sat weeping without sound while her mother telephoned. Something has happened to Doris, Mrs. Bazine whispered into the telephone. Please, hurry, something has happened to her. Goodbye, Doris, Lindstrom spoke. The white face of the girl remained without movement. She was staring out the window, a lifeless figure, weeping.

Starting point is 11:28:59 He approached her and watched her tears. Outside he walked with his head down through the street. She knew it was going to happen, he murmured to himself, and she wanted to see me again before it did. His heart felt heavy. Doris, with her dead eyes weeping. Ah, a long sigh. Hard to remember things that had been. Knock him over, he whispered aloud.

Starting point is 11:29:33 Make something, make something. Deep inside. him were hands that pantomime despair people in the streets war was coming to them huh he said slowly they tore her heart out everybody knew him everybody knew the name Lindstrom it was the name of a great poet when he was dead Lindstrom would stay alive huh he whispered I don't know Sing to them. Yes. His teeth bit into the pipe stem. Tears came from his eyes. He walked along in the night, snarling with his lips parted and weeping. End of Chapter 23. Recording by

Starting point is 11:30:26 Roger Maline. Chapter 24 of Gargoyles. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. by Ben Hecht Chapter 24 The War was a noisy guest. People shook hands with it. It sat down in their little rooms. Its voice was a brass band that drowned their troubles.

Starting point is 11:31:03 Bazine found a curious friend in the war. Changes had come to him in the days that followed the scene with Ruth. He grew cold. His heart was indifferent. His victory in the election had sent him to bed without joy. There was no longer an inner bazine and an outer bazine. He had fought his way into the current of events, and he was content to let them move in. They made him senator.

Starting point is 11:31:34 They moved him to Washington, provided new scenes for him, new faces. He heard of his sister's collapse without sorrow. She had become crazy. To be expected, of course. To be expected, he said to himself one evening, as he sat writing a letter of sympathy to his mother. The thing that had happened to Bazine had been the result of a confusion.

Starting point is 11:32:01 He found himself at forty, robbed of life. Despair, hatred, disgust. These things were left. He turned his back on them. They were a company of a woman. emotions too difficult to play with. It was no longer possible to lie. Ruth, Schroeder, Henrietta, love, hope, intrigue grew mixed up. He emerged from himself and walked away from himself, like an aggrieved and dignified guest. He sometimes remembered himself, a distant

Starting point is 11:32:38 bazine, a keen-faced one with the feel of leadership in his heart. a mind that was alive behind its words. He had done and thought many things, but now he had gone away. He was silent. The day was no longer a challenge. The change carried its reward. It seemed to bring him closer to people.

Starting point is 11:33:04 At least he found a certain charm in talking and listening that had not existed before. He gave himself no thought. He was successful, and that was enough. At times he sat in his new quarters in Washington, reading stray items in the newspapers, and reciting to himself his achievements. He found pleasing identification in the honors he had achieved.

Starting point is 11:33:32 His political friends talked among themselves. They recalled that Bazine had once been a man of promise, a man alive with energies. And now he was like the others in the party, an amiable fuddy-duddy. They recalled the sensational figure he had made a few years ago in the vice investigation. This seemed to have been the climax of Bazine.

Starting point is 11:33:59 But the war arrived, and the new senator began to emerge. The country became filled with mediocrities, struggling to utilize the war as a pair. pedestal. The call had gone out for heroes, and the elocutionists rushed forward. The psychology of the day, however, was a bit too involved for these aspirants. The body politic of the nation found itself betrayed by its own platitudes. A moral frenzy began to animate the horizon. But it was the frenzy of an idea that it escaped control. An idea grown too huge. A moral frenzy. huge and luminous to direct any longer. The idealization of itself before which the crowd had

Starting point is 11:34:46 worshipped became now a Frankenstein. The virtues of America had gone to war, and the nation looked on, aghast and uncomprehending. The flattering and grandiose image of itself that the Bet Populare had been creating in its law books, textbooks, and hymnals had suddenly stepped from its complicated mirror and was marching like a mad hatter to the front. A swarm of guides and interpreters had leaped to its side. They danced around it, chanting its nobilitys, proclaiming its grandeur. The spirit of democracy, the rights of man, the one and only God, the golden rule, the thou shalt nots, the seven virtues, the man act. the hatred for all variants of evil the mythical incarnation of these and kindred illusions the idealization was off of the front

Starting point is 11:35:51 the confusion arose when the nation found itself attached as if by some gruesome umbilical cord to this crazed idealization off with a tin sword on its shoulder and it must follow this virtue snorting monster it must lie down to this-and it must lie down in trenches in behalf of a fairy tale with which it had been shrewdly deceiving itself for a century. But while the elocutionists fumbling for pedestals were exhorting the nation to hoist itself by its bootstraps, to become overnight a belligerent hierarchy around its god, there were others whose spirit raised an authentic battle shout. One of these was bazinine. He appeared to return to himself. The bazine he had walked away from raised itself amid the disgusts and hatreds in which it had lain abandoned. A rage gathered in his voice. Eloquence and flashing eyes were his. The amiable fuddy-duddy playing little politics in Washington

Starting point is 11:36:59 became a gentleman of war. The horizon bristled with gentlemen of war, but the terrified crowd casting about for leaders, as the draft shoveled it toward the trenches, eyed them with suspicion. There must be authentic gentlemen of war, men above suspicion. Men maddened with a desire to fight and destroy were wanted. Bazine was one of these. His tirades against the enemy left nothing in doubt. They were not concerned with idealisms. The enemy must be done. destroyed, he began to cry, or else it would destroy civilization. Huns, he cried, vandals and scoundrels, guerrillas, demons, soulless monsters.

Starting point is 11:37:52 His phrases drew frightful caricatures of the enemy. His orations were among the few that stirred terror. The Germans were not enemies of an ideal, not a rabble of Nietzsche's at theological grips with a rabble of Christ's. They were Huns, said Bazine, barbarians, fiends, hacking children to pieces, pillaging, raping, destroying.

Starting point is 11:38:21 This was a language the nation understood. It contained in it the inspiration to heroism and sacrifice. Out of it arose the grisly cartoon which awakened fear, terrified by the possibility, of Hun domination and massacres, the crowd patriotically bared its bosom to the lesser horror, war. It marched forth behind its idiot idealization, not to defend that absurdity,

Starting point is 11:38:53 but to save itself from the clutches of massacring savages. The energies which came to life abruptly in Bazine focused into a strange passion against the Germans, he was vicious, intolerant, unscrupulous in his denunciations. This established him instantly as a leader. The crowd, casting about for leaders, seized upon men more terrified than themselves. And upon these abject ones who raved and howled from the pulpit, stage, and press, they heaped rewards and canonizations. There was one phase of Bazine's hatred that offered a curious explanation. From the beginning, he devoted himself to describing the hideous immorality

Starting point is 11:39:45 of the Huns. He loaned himself passionately to all rumors celebrating the wholesome rape of women committed by the invaders of Belgium. Deportations, well-poisonings, child murders figured extensively in his eloquence, but gradually he appeared to concentrate upon what he called the ultimate horror. Fair Europe overrun by this horde of seducers and immoral blackguards. Schroeder was a German. The war rehabilitated, Bazine. It enabled him to destroy Schroeder. The complicated underworld of hate, disgust, disillusion, which his ludicrous renunciation of Ruth and her subsequent betrayal by Schroeder had created in him, was the arsenal. from which he armed himself for war.

Starting point is 11:40:41 He had lapsed into a sterile and amial bazin in order to escape from emotions become too intolerable and too dangerous to utilize. The murderer of Schroeder would not have restored him. The return of the woman he still loved would have been equally futile. Life had become too intolerable for Bazine to face and adjust. He had permitted,

Starting point is 11:41:07 himself convenient burial. On the night he had gotten drunk with the newspaper man, Bazine saw himself as he was, a creature misshapen and humorous, and he had buried the vision and fled from it. To sit contemplating an inner self become a grotesque cripple was intolerable. He sought for a brief space to transfer his self-loathing to Schroeder, but Schroeder, the man was too small to contain it. Schroeder, the war, however, was another matter. Bazine unlocked himself, exhumed himself, and came forth with a yell in his throat. The German army was five million Schroeder's. He hurled himself at them. He was happy in his rage. A sincerity hypnotized him. The Germans were not only five million

Starting point is 11:42:07 Schroeder's. They were also the incarnated nauseous and despairs of Buzine. Schroeder, the man, had become for him, illogically but soothingly, the cause of everything that had become misshapen and humorous inside him. Schroeder, the man, was the sand in which Bazine the ostrich buried his head. Now Schroeder, the Germans, Schroeder, the World War, schroeder the rape of belgium the devastation of france offered a more hospitable grave for the misshapen and humorous image of himself to destroy the germans became for bazin synonymous with destroying the things inside himself from which he had fled helplessly the destruction of these things consisted of giving them outlet of giving them voice His hatreds, despairs, and disillusions arose and spat themselves upon the Germans. The process cleansed and invigorated him and launched him before the public as a leader to be trusted,

Starting point is 11:43:22 a hero to venerate during its dark hour. End of Chapter 24. Recording by Roger Malene Chapter 25 of Gargoyles This Librevox recording. is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Maline. Gargoyles by Ben Hecht. Chapter 25 The company assembled in his mother's home, greeted Bazine with excitement.

Starting point is 11:44:01 He had stopped over during a tour in behalf of the Liberty Loan. Mrs. Bazine had persuaded him to attend a function in his honor. He was late. They were waiting dinner for him. when he entered a sense of great affairs of world disturbances came into the room with him at the table the talk centered around him he was the superior patriot questions were fired at him when would the war end what was the real secret of this and that and did he know what was behind the latest note from the president and when was the german offensive due he answered ambiguously offering no information and exciting his audience by his reticence aubrey gilchrist who had held the floor before the senator's arrival listened eagerly to his brother-in-law aubrey's patriotism was a bond between them but it was of a different quality aubrey's patriotism was founded on the fact that america was the most virtuous nation in the world he devoted himself to a campaign among his friends and had even spoken publicly a number of times in his talk he grew eloquent over the moral grandeur of his country and hailed the altruism and honesty of his countrymen as a light that illumined the world

Starting point is 11:45:31 aubrey had overcome his impulse to publish his father's manuscript under his own name his fears had finally triumphed he had utilized his decision in a curious way for months after determining not to commit the imposture he had discussed the decision among his friends i worked a number of years on it he explained simply but on reading it over i feel that it's not the thing to be given the public it's a bit too rabelaisian and unrestrained among gentlemen yes but when one thinks of young men and women reading such things one hesitates i feel too that i can do better perhaps in another year or so i'll finish something more worthy this explanation had given him a pleasurable emotion it had coincided with the inner aubrey the isaiah who thundered in secret. He had gone about elated with the knowledge of his honesty, not only the honesty of refraining from the imposture, but the honesty of sparing the public a work likely to undermine its morals. With the advent of the war, Aubrey's elation had expanded miraculously. The nation became a collection of Aubrey Gilchrist's. He found an outlet for his self-admiration and boasting

Starting point is 11:47:00 tirelessly of the virtues of his countrymen. His interest in the Germans was faint. He was chiefly concerned with having the moral grandeur of his nation recognized and triumphant. Seated opposite him was Fanny. She smiled when he looked at her. The war had brought Fanny happiness. It had released her from the tormenting of Ramsey. She turned occasionally toward Ramsey, a few seats removed at the table and spoke to him. He had changed. He sat flushed and elated, and took his turn at denouncing the enemy, at avowing vengeance and prophesying terrible victories over the Hun. His anger rivaled Bazines. The curious game he had played with Fanny had lost its interest. He had emerged like Bazine. Fanny was no longer necessary to his desire

Starting point is 11:47:59 for a sense of power, a power which convinced him of his manliness, and concealed from him the secret of his inferiority. He had transferred his game from Fanny to the Germans. He was now tormenting the Germans. The news of their defeats, the hope of their annihilation, inflated him. In addition, his belligerent air, his glory threats, enabled him to establish himself in his eyes and in the eyes of others as a thorough man. There were others in the company. Judge Smith, red-faced and glowering. Aubrey's mother engaged in excommunicating the Germans as socially unfit

Starting point is 11:48:43 and outside the pale of her sympathy or support. A number of prominent social and political lights. They discussed the war with animation, fired questions at the senator, and ate heartily. Dishes clattered. Servants appeared and disappeared. Mrs. Bazine, sitting beside her son, listened to him proudly and grew sad.

Starting point is 11:49:10 Her son's prestige pleased her, but the war saddened her. She noticed that Mrs. Gilchrist was growing old, too old to share the enthusiasms of the day. Yet there was a comradeship in the room that stirred Mrs. Bizzine. she disliked most of the individuals around her but when they came together there was something charming in the way they talked and smiled and exchanged confidences mrs bazin had secretly allied herself with a pacifist group of women who labeled their minor timidity as intellectualism and argued with violence against the major timidity identified as patriotism

Starting point is 11:49:53 she had a horror of war her imagination seeing herself continually suffering with the soldiers of both sides a similar sensitiveness had converted her into a vague socialist the misery of what she called the masses was a mirror in which she saw a possible image of herself she subscribed with enthusiasm to doctrines which promised to establish justice and tranquillity in the world but now among the people in her home mrs bazin noticed an enviable optimism some of them were old friends others new friends but all of them were alike in one way all of them seemed wonderfully excited over the fact that this war was going to put an end to all wars she would have liked to share this optimism but her intelligence deprived her of the solace yet she was able to feel kindly toward the ideals she sensed were false they were somehow like her own ideals inspired by similar things the camaraderie in the room heightened this was a war that was going to put an end to all wars and every one felt happy they talked and laughed their manner seemed to hint that the war was not only going to put an end to all wars but to all trouble Yes, the Germans vanquished, victory achieved, and the world would be beautifully straightened out. They identified themselves avidly with the world, these new and old friends.

Starting point is 11:51:38 The enemy who had dogged their monotonous little footsteps through the years, the veiled nemesis who had harassed them and filled them with helpless, futile hatreds, tripped them up and robbed them at every turn, this enemy was a man. at last unmasked. He was identified now. He was their troubles, their defeats. And they had him out in the open now, where they could shout battle cries and leap upon him. He was the Germans. Mrs. Bazine, groping for an understanding of the elation among her guests, and desiring to share it, thought of her grandchildren. She remembered George when he was no older than his son. this memory seemed to give the lie to the excitement in the room she wondered why she remembered fanny when she was a girl and henrietta long ago

Starting point is 11:52:35 henrietta was smiling quietly at her husband a faded matron scrawny silent and doris was upstairs weeping perhaps she had taken doris out of the sanitarium to care for her at home the doctor said melancholia she might be cured if something could be found to interest her but there was nothing she sat wide-eyed and morose through the day her hands listless and waited till night came and sleep her skin was yellow and there were little glints in her eyes as if they were peering out of the dark senator bazin laughed at the sally of a pretty woman the table joined his laughter the senator was an inspiration his manner was forceful his words direct when he listened his head remained flung back when he talked he lowered his head and raised his eyes there was an anger in him that awed it played behind his words you're right george aubrey answered a remark bazin had made i agree with you entirely but after all the purposes of this war are more than victory over an enemy the victory over ourselves aubrey's words were lost in the racket of rising diners the eating was over the guests filed into the library henrietta slipped her hand through her husband's arm she remembered vaguely the afternoon in the bazin library when george bazin had asked her to marry him no it was in the kitchen she would have liked to talk about it but this was no time to mention such thing-and-you-she was no time to mention such thing-and-you-she would have liked to talk about it

Starting point is 11:54:30 but this was no time to mention such things she sat down and listened to the excited remarks of the guests there was an interruption aubrey at the window raised his voice look here he exclaimed soldiers the company crowded to the front of the room men in civilian clothes carrying small bundles over their shoulders were marching for abreast down the center of the street "'Entertaining for war, by God,' said Ramsey. They watched in silence. Soldiers going to war. There was something incongruous about that. A vague feeling of surprise and discomfort held the watchers. Men who would in a short while be lying in trenches,

Starting point is 11:55:23 shooting with guns, killing other men. And they felt curiously out of touch with the marks. marchers, as if the enemy they had been denouncing at the table and vilifying throughout their day, were someone not so far away as France, as if these marching men in the street were being sent to the wrong address. End of Chapter 25. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 26 of Gargoyles.

Starting point is 11:56:02 This Librevox recording is in the public domain. by Roger Maline Gargoyles by Ben Hecht Chapter 26 Bazine hurried in the dark street His mother and Henrietta stood in the doorway watching him He carried a suitcase and had promised to write frequently The Liberty Loan Tour had cut short his visit

Starting point is 11:56:30 He was walking to catch his train at the neighborhood station a few blocks away As he turned the corner, Bazine paused. Someone had called his name. He looked around and saw a man standing under the street lamp. Hello, George. How are you? The man held out his hand, and Bazine, taking it, studied him for a moment. Keegan. Poor old Hugh Keegan! Bazine smiled.

Starting point is 11:57:04 Well, well! he exclaimed. What are you doing around here, Hugh? They stood shaking hands. Bazine noticed the furtive, shabby air of his old friend. He hadn't seen or heard of Keegan or thought of him for years. It was strange to meet him like this, walking in a street. I live down the street a ways, Keegan answered.

Starting point is 11:57:31 An almost womanish shyness was in his manner. "'Been hearing and reading a lot about you, George.' He lowered his voice. "'You sure made good.' Bazine smiled, deprecatingly. "'Walking my way, Hugh?' he inquired. "'Going to the train.' He felt nervous.

Starting point is 11:57:55 Keegan was like meeting yesterday's. "'Yes,' said Kegan. They walked along. Bazine felt his exuberance leaving him. A curious desire to apologize to Kagan took hold of him. But for what? Because Kegan looked shabby. Kegan acted frightened and ashamed of something.

Starting point is 11:58:21 We used to have some good times together, George. The man was impossibly wistful, like a beggar asking something, demanding something. Yes, said Bazine. This Keegan, this Keegan, he looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. Shabby, furtive, blonde-faced, tired. What have you been doing, Hugh? he asked. Oh, didn't you hear? Kegan answered.

Starting point is 11:58:54 His voice grew more deferential. He began to talk in an apologetic murmur. My wife died. he apologized. I got married, you know, four years ago. Four years this coming November. We went to a picnic last June, and Helen ate something. Kagan's voice sank to a confidential and still apologetic whisper.

Starting point is 11:59:23 About two nights after, he added, she died. Bazine looked at him and saw tears in his eyes. Keegan had married somebody, and she had died. This had happened to Kegan. Bazine grew nervous. "'Awfully glad to have seen you again, Hugh,' he said after a pause. "'I am sorry to hear about it. We must get together some time.

Starting point is 11:59:53 I think I'll have to run.' They shook hands, and Bazine hurried on. He was aware of Keegan looking after him. A vacuous-faced-faced Keegan with tears in his eyes. A Keegan who had found something and lost it. What kind of a woman could have loved, Keegan? What kind? What kind? Poor Hugh.

Starting point is 12:00:18 He had been young once. Now it was all over. Bazine sighed. Keegan saddened. Keegan was like yesterday's. He started to walk home. faster. He began to run, the suitcase thumping against his leg. I'll miss the train, he assured himself furtively and ran.

Starting point is 12:00:43 But there was plenty of time for the train. Another fifteen minutes. He was running for something else. Yes, he was running away from Keegan, from the vacuous, shabby figure of Keegan that stood weeping behind him. An oath throbbed in his mind. Damn, he muttered. The word stopped him. He walked the rest of the way to the station. A sadness darkened him.

Starting point is 12:01:15 He was sad, impossibly sad, as if his heart were breaking. Because Keegan had found something and lost it. Because his old friend Hugh had started to cry. Poor Huey! he murmured. The end. End of chapter 26. End of gargoyles by Ben Hecht.

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