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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"The Arrow of Gold"

He was unavoidable: and of
course I never tried to avoid him. The first sight on which his
eyes fell was a victoria pulled up before the hotel door, in which
I sat with no sentiment I can remember now but that of some slight
shyness. He got in without a moment's hesitation, his friendly
glance took me in from head to foot and (such was his peculiar
gift) gave me a pleasurable sensation.
After we had gone a little way I couldn't help saying to him with a
bashful laugh: "You know, it seems very extraordinary that I
should be driving out with you like this."
He turned to look at me and in his kind voice:
"You will find everything extremely simple," he said. "So simple
that you will be quite able to hold your own. I suppose you know
that the world is selfish, I mean the majority of the people in it,
often unconsciously I must admit, and especially people with a
mission, with a fixed idea, with some fantastic object in view, or
even with only some fantastic illusion. That doesn't mean that
they have no scruples. And I don't know that at this moment I
myself am not one of them."
"That, of course, I can't say," I retorted.
"I haven't seen her for years," he said, "and in comparison with
what she was then she must be very grown up by now.


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