.. and how absurd, at the same time. How life never drew
near him, how he ever saw it through the film of his latest theory, and
tried to order his own, as well as everybody else's life, to jibe with
it....
* * * * *
"Penton, it is a matter of indifference to me where I put up. It was you
who invited me to come to Eden ... but I won't mind staying at Community
Inn, as I can only be with you for a couple of weeks, anyhow ... I'm due
to take a cattleboat for Paris, for Europe, as soon as I have _Judas_
finished."
* * * * *
Supper ... veal steaks served on a plain board table outside the big
house, under a tree. We waited on ourselves. We discussed Strindberg,
his novels and plays ... his curious researches in science ...
Nietzsche....
Afterward, having eaten off wooden plates, we flung the plates in the
fireplace, burning them ... Ruth washed the knives, forks, spoons....
"It's such a saving of effort to use wooden plates and paper napkins ...
so much less mere household drudgery ... so much more time for living
saved."
I had taken my suitcase and was about to repair to the much-discussed
inn. But Penton asked me to wait, while he had a conference with the
three women of the household.
Soon he came out, smiling placidly and blandly.
"Johnnie, I'm sorry about this afternoon .
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