You are
torn out of your surroundings, reduced from your own class, put
beneath those who are really beneath yourself. Then you get a
sense of living in the bronze age. You come to feel as if you were
dressed in skins, as if you were living in a cave and eating out
of a trough--ugh!
MR. X. But there is reason back of all that. One who acts as if he
belonged to the bronze age might surely be expected to don the
proper costume.
MR. Y. [Irately] Yes, you sneer! You who have behaved like a man
from the stone age--and who are permitted to live in the golden
age.
MR. X. [Sharply, watching him closely] What do you mean with that
last expression--the golden age?
MR. Y. [With a poorly suppressed snarl] Nothing at all.
MR. X. Now you lie--because you are too much of a coward to say
all you think.
MR. Y. Am I a coward? You think so? But I was no coward when I
dared to show myself around here, where I had had to suffer as I
did.--But can you tell what makes one suffer most while in there?-
-It is that the others are not in there too!
MR. X. What others?
MR. Y. Those that go unpunished.
MR. X. Are you thinking of me?
MR.
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