.. there'll be a full moon up.
I have informed the committee that you will read a few of your poems by
the camp-fire."
"--the first time I ever heard of it," I replied, concealing my pride in
the invitation, under show of being disgruntled....
That was Penton's way, arranging things first, telling you afterward.
"But you will do it? I have said you would!"
"Yes, Penton, if you wish me to!"
* * * * *
Hildreth was always insistent on my strength ... my greyhound length of
limb, my huge chest ... she stood up and pounded on my chest once....
"Oh, why do I pick out a poor poet, and not a millionaire, for a lover!"
* * * * *
There grew up between us a myth ... we were living in cave-days ... she
was my cave-woman ... I was her cave-man....
As I came to her in my bath-robe (for now, bolder with seeming immunity,
we threw caution aside, and met often in the little house)--
As I came to her in my bath-robe, unshaven, once ... she called me her
Paphnutius ... and she was my Thais ... and she told me Anatole France's
story of _Thais_.
But the cave-legend of our love ... in a previous incarnation ... was
what spelled her most ... she doted on strength ... cruel, sheer, brute
strength....
That I could carry her, lift her high up with ease, toss her about,
rejoiced her to the utmost.
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