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He walked, therefore, on this afternoon in the Public Gardens and tried to reconstruct in their original force the reasons for his not marrying Savilla Dassonville. They had come upon him overwhelmingly in the recrudescence of memory, reasons rooted very simply in his man's hunger for the lift, the dizzying eminence of desire.
"It would be quite out of the question to have hot cakes for luncheon, and I absolutely refuse to come for anything less." "There's something quite as good," asserted the captain, "that I'll bet you haven't had in as long." "Better than hot cakes?" Miss Dassonville was skeptical. "Pie," said the captain. "Oh, Pie!" in mock ecstasy. "Well, I'd come for pie," and with that they parted.
It seems to me," said the Princess severely, "it is you who are running away." She was wise enough to leave him with that view of it though it was not by any means leaving him more comfortable. He tried for relief to figure himself as by the Princess' suggestion, he must seem to Savilla Dassonville.
It was now about mail time and a few people began to stir in the street; the clear light and the cold gave them a poverty-bitten look. "Does anybody ever get rich in Bloombury?" "Not that I know of. There's Mr. Dassonville in Harmony Dave Dassonville, the richest man in these parts." "I suppose he could tell me how to go about it?" "I suppose he would if he knows. Mostly these things just happen."
But if he allowed to himself that he would never have spoken to Savilla Dassonville that day at San Marco, if she had been to the eye anything that Eunice Goodward was, he told himself it was because he was not sure from behind which of those charming ambuscades the arrows of desolation might be shot.
What I mean is that when he works he must make every stroke count toward the end he has in view. Do you understand?" "I think so." The House and the Shining Walls were safe, at any rate. "And then," Mr. Dassonville checked off the points on his fingers, "he must always save something from his income, no matter how small it is."
"Oh, no," said Peter. It seemed to him that they were getting on very well indeed. "There is another thing I should like to say," Mr. Dassonville went on, "but I am not sure I can put it plainly. It is that you must not try to be too wise." He smiled a little to Peter's blankness.
"I believe in Harmony it is called looking on all sides of a thing, but there is always one side of everything like the moon which is turned from us. You must just start from where you are and keep moving." "I see," said Peter, looking thoughtfully into the fire, in imitation of Mr. Dassonville.
Afterward, as he recalled that he had never sent flowers to Miss Dassonville before, and as he had that morning furnished her from the market boats past her protesting limitation, it was perhaps a greater emphasis to his desertion.
Out of the anæsthesia of exhaustion from which Italy had revived him, it rolled back upon him that by just the walled imperviousness that shut Eunice Goodward from the appreciation of his passion, he was prevented now from Savilla Dassonville.
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