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"I wonder what those two fools are bellowing at?" he said, turning about irritably. "Hanged if I know!" muttered Hawker in reply. "This place makes me weary, anyhow. Hear the blooming din!" "What's the matter?" said Hollanden. "You used to say this was the one natural, the one truly Bohemian, resort in the city. You swore by it." "Well, I don't like it so much any more."
Say, who was the girl Billie Hawker went mad over this summer?" "Blazes!" said Hollanden, recovering slowly from this onslaught. "Who what how did you Indians find it out?" "Oh, we tumbled!" they cried in delight, "we tumbled." "There!" said Hollanden, reproaching himself. "And I thought you were such a lot of blockheads." "Oh, we tumbled!" they cried again in their ecstasy. "But who is she?
And you explode and go into rages and make yourselves utterly detestable over the most trivial matters and at the most unexpected times. You are all mad, I think." "I!" cried Hollanden wildly. "What in the mischief have I done?" "Look here," said Hollanden, at length, "I thought you were so wonderfully anxious to learn that stroke?" "Well, I am," she said. "Come on, then."
The thought might have occurred to him that it was not alight, for he looked at it with a vague, questioning glance. There came another knock at the door. "Go to the devil!" he shouted, without turning his head. Hollanden crossed the corridor then to the den. "Hi, there, Hollie! Hello, boy! Just the fellow we want to see. Come in sit down hit a pipe.
A man in your condition why, confound you, you are an infant!" Hawker seemed again overwhelmed in a great dislike of himself. "Oh, well, of course, Hollie, it " He waved his hand. "A man feels like like " "Certainly he does," said Hollanden. "That's all right, old man." "And look now, Hollie, here's this Oglethorpe " "May the devil fly away with him!"
So I ply them with it. In consequence, the worst they ever say of me is, 'Isn't that Mr. Hollanden a peculiar man? And you know, my boy, that's not so bad for a literary person." After some thought he added: "Good people, too. Good wives, good mothers, and everything of that kind, you know. But conservative, very conservative. Hate anything radical. Can not endure it.
When near it he usually slunk along at a little sheep trot and with an eye of wariness upon it. At her first opportunity the younger Worcester girl said, "You didn't come up yesterday, Mr. Hawker." Hollanden seemed to think that Miss Fanhall turned her head as if she wished to hear the explanation of the painter's absence, so he engaged her in swift and fierce conversation. "No," said Hawker.
Rage flamed into Hawker's face, and he cried passionately, "I tell you it is none of your business!" He suddenly confronted the other man. Hollanden surveyed this outburst with a critical eye, and then slapped his knee with emphasis. "You certainly have got it a million times worse than I thought. Why, you you you're heels over head."
Others may do as they please, but as for me," he concluded ferociously, "I shall never disclose to anybody that an acrobat, a trained bear of the magazines, a juggler of comic paragraphs, is not a priceless pearl of art and philosophy." "I don't believe a word of it is true," said Miss Worcester. "What do you expect of autobiography?" demanded Hollanden, with asperity.
After another scanning of the figures at the top of the cliff, Hollanden established himself in an oratorical pose on a great weather-beaten stone.
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