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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Then you don't believe in the marriage laws for say yourself," Dar Hyal inquired, "while you do believe in them for other men?" "I believe in them for all men. Children, family, career, society, the State all these things make marriage, legal marriage, imperative. And by the same token that is why I believe in divorce.
And as they passed out from the dining room, Dick, continuing the conversation with Dar Hyal, was wondering whether Paula would kiss him good night or slip off to bed from the piano. And Paula, talking to Leo about his latest sonnet which he had shown her, was wondering if she could kiss Dick, and was suddenly greatly desirous to kiss him, she knew not why.
He's been with us two years now, and he's actually filling out, despite the facts that Dick is absurdly generous in furnishing supplies and that they'd rather talk and read and dream than cook. The only good meals they get is when they descend upon us, like to-night." "And the Hindoo, there who's he?" "That's Dar Hyal. He's their guest.
"Prejudice, not of birth, but of early environment, is too strong for all your philosophy to shake. It is as bad as Herbert Spencer's handicap of the early influence of the Manchester School." "And Spencer is on a par with the Hottentot?" Dar Hyal challenged. Dick shook his head. "Let me say this, Hyal. I think I can make it clear.
Consider yourself acquainted. And, oh, if you encounter our sages more intimately, a word of warning, especially if the encounter be in the stag room: Dar Hyal is a total abstainer; Theodore Malken can get poetically drunk, and usually does, on one cocktail; Aaron Hancock is an expert wine-bibber; and Terrence McFane, knowing little of one drink from another, and caring less, can put ninety-nine men out of a hundred under the table and go right on lucidly expounding epicurean anarchy."
The boy did not understand, but in the blue eyes of the Celt, peering from under the mop of iron-gray hair, there was no mistaking the knowledge of the situation. Voices of men were heard coming down the stairs, and, as Martinez and Dar Hyal entered, Terrence was saying: "'Tis fine weather they say they're having down at Catalina now, and I hear the tunny fish are biting splendid."
"And Dar Hyal, with a few arm-wavings and word-whirrings, will show that all brass tacks are illusions; and Terrence, that brass tacks are sordid, irrelevant and non-essential things at best; and Hancock, that the overhanging heaven of Bergson is paved with brass tacks, only that they are a much superior article to yours; and Leo, that there is only one brass tack in the universe, and that it is Beauty, and that it isn't brass at all but gold."
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