William Hayes Ward tried to
explain to me how I owed it both to Mr. Derek and Mr. Mackworth to
finish my play.
"Have you no place else to go to, beside Eden?"
"I could run out to Perfection City--and camp out there."
"Now that's a good idea ... why not try that?"
* * * * *
"Johnnie, had your lunch yet?" it was Dr. Percival Hammond, the
managing editor, who was asking, leaning out from his cubbyhole where he
sat before his desk.
"No, sir!"
"Come and share mine!"
I said good-bye to Dr. Ward and walked down the corridor to where
Hammond sat. He looked more the fashionable club man than ever, though
he did have a slight sprinkling of dandruff on his coat collar. I was
quick to notice this, as I had been quick to notice Miss Martin's few,
close-scizzored hairs on her fine, thinking face.
Lunch!
But I was not to be taken out to a meal in a restaurant, as anyone might
expect, but Hammond sat me down on a chair by his side, and he handed me
a glass of buttermilk and a few compressed oatmeal cakes.
* * * * *
I had stayed over night at the Phi-Mu House, at Columbia, with Ally. I
had stayed up nearly all night, rather, arguing, in behalf of extreme
socialism, with the boys ... till people, hearing our voices through the
open windows, had actually gathered in the street without.
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