winterhalter

1 Şubat 2017 Çarşamba

Bagikan :

Tweet

chapter xxix ithe assurance of tanis judique's friendship fortified babbitt's self-approval.at the athletic club he became experimental. though vergil gunch was silent, the othersat the roughnecks' table came to accept babbitt as having, for no visible reason,"turned crank." they argued windily with him, and he wascocky, and enjoyed the spectacle of his interesting martyrdom.he even praised seneca doane. professor pumphrey said that was carrying ajoke too far; but babbitt argued, "no!

fact!i tell you he's got one of the keenest intellects in the country. why, lord wycombe said that--""oh, who the hell is lord wycombe? what you always lugging him in for?you been touting him for the last six weeks!" protested orville jones. "george ordered him from sears-roebuck.you can get those english high-muckamucks by mail for two bucks apiece," suggestedsidney finkelstein. "that's all right now! lord wycombe, he's one of the biggestintellects in english political life.

as i was saying: of course i'm conservativemyself, but i appreciate a guy like senny doane because--" vergil gunch interrupted harshly, "i wonderif you are so conservative? i find i can manage to run my own businesswithout any skunks and reds like doane in it!" the grimness of gunch's voice, the hardnessof his jaw, disconcerted babbitt, but he recovered and went on till they lookedbored, then irritated, then as doubtful as gunch. iihe thought of tanis always.

with a stir he remembered her every aspect.his arms yearned for her. "i've found her! i've dreamed of her all these years and nowi've found her!" he exulted. he met her at the movies in the morning; hedrove out to her flat in the late afternoon or on evenings when he was believed to beat the elks. he knew her financial affairs and advisedher about them, while she lamented her feminine ignorance, and praised hismasterfulness, and proved to know much more about bonds than he did. they had remembrances, and laughter overold times.

once they quarreled, and he raged that shewas as "bossy" as his wife and far more whining when he was inattentive. but that passed safely.their high hour was a tramp on a ringing december afternoon, through snow-driftedmeadows down to the icy chaloosa river. she was exotic in an astrachan cap and ashort beaver coat; she slid on the ice and shouted, and he panted after her, rotundwith laughter.... myra babbitt never slid on the ice. he was afraid that they would be seentogether. in zenith it is impossible to lunch with aneighbor's wife without the fact being

known, before nightfall, in every house inyour circle. but tanis was beautifully discreet. however appealingly she might turn to himwhen they were alone, she was gravely detached when they were abroad, and hehoped that she would be taken for a client. orville jones once saw them emerging from amovie theater, and babbitt bumbled, "let me make you 'quainted with mrs. judique.now here's a lady who knows the right broker to come to, orvy!" mr. jones, though he was a man censoriousof morals and of laundry machinery, seemed satisfied.

his predominant fear--not from any especialfondness for her but from the habit of propriety--was that his wife would learn ofthe affair. he was certain that she knew nothingspecific about tanis, but he was also certain that she suspected somethingindefinite. for years she had been bored by anythingmore affectionate than a farewell kiss, yet she was hurt by any slackening in hisirritable periodic interest, and now he had no interest; rather, a revulsion. he was completely faithful--to tanis. he was distressed by the sight of hiswife's slack plumpness, by her puffs and

billows of flesh, by the tattered petticoatwhich she was always meaning and always forgetting to throw away. but he was aware that she, so long attunedto him, caught all his repulsions. he elaborately, heavily, jocularly tried tocheck them. he couldn't. they had a tolerable christmas.kenneth escott was there, admittedly engaged to verona.mrs. babbitt was tearful and called kenneth her new son. babbitt was worried about ted, because hehad ceased complaining of the state

university and become suspiciouslyacquiescent. he wondered what the boy was planning, andwas too shy to ask. himself, babbitt slipped away on christmasafternoon to take his present, a silver cigarette-box, to tanis. when he returned mrs. babbitt asked, muchtoo innocently, "did you go out for a little fresh air?""yes, just lil drive," he mumbled. after new year's his wife proposed, "iheard from my sister to-day, george. she isn't well.i think perhaps i ought to go stay with her for a few weeks."

now, mrs. babbitt was not accustomed toleave home during the winter except on violently demanding occasions, and only thesummer before, she had been gone for weeks. nor was babbitt one of the detachablehusbands who take separations casually he liked to have her there; she looked afterhis clothes; she knew how his steak ought to be cooked; and her clucking made himfeel secure. but he could not drum up even a dutiful"oh, she doesn't really need you, does she?" while he tried to look regretful, while hefelt that his wife was watching him, he was filled with exultant visions of tanis."do you think i'd better go?" she said

sharply. "you've got to decide, honey; i can't."she turned away, sighing, and his forehead was damp. till she went, four days later, she wascuriously still, he cumbrously affectionate.her train left at noon. as he saw it grow small beyond the train-shed he longed to hurry to tanis. "no, by golly, i won't do that!" he vowed."i won't go near her for a week!" but he was at her flat at four. iii

he who had once controlled or seemed tocontrol his life in a progress unimpassioned but diligent and sane was forthat fortnight borne on a current of desire and very bad whisky and all the complications of new acquaintances, thosefurious new intimates who demand so much more attention than old friends.each morning he gloomily recognized his idiocies of the evening before. with his head throbbing, his tongue andlips stinging from cigarettes, he incredulously counted the number of drinkshe had taken, and groaned, "i got to quit!" he had ceased saying, "i will quit!" forhowever resolute he might be at dawn, he

could not, for a single evening, check hisdrift. he had met tanis's friends; he had, withthe ardent haste of the midnight people, who drink and dance and rattle and are everafraid to be silent, been adopted as a member of her group, which they called "thebunch." he first met them after a day when he hadworked particularly hard and when he hoped to be quiet with tanis and slowly sip heradmiration. from down the hall he could hear shrieksand the grind of a phonograph. as tanis opened the door he saw fantasticfigures dancing in a haze of cigarette smoke.

the tables and chairs were against thewall. "oh, isn't this dandy!" she gabbled at him."carrie nork had the loveliest idea. she decided it was time for a party, andshe 'phoned the bunch and told 'em to gather round....george, this is carrie.""carrie" was, in the less desirable aspects of both, at once matronly and spinsterish. she was perhaps forty; her hair was anunconvincing ash-blond; and if her chest was flat, her hips were ponderous.she greeted babbitt with a giggling "welcome to our little midst! tanis says you're a real sport."he was apparently expected to dance, to be

boyish and gay with carrie, and he did hisunforgiving best. he towed her about the room, bumping intoother couples, into the radiator, into chair-legs cunningly ambushed. as he danced he surveyed the rest of thebunch: a thin young woman who looked capable, conceited, and sarcastic.another woman whom he could never quite remember. three overdressed and slightly effeminateyoung men--soda-fountain clerks, or at least born for that profession.a man of his own age, immovable, self- satisfied, resentful of babbitt's presence.

when he had finished his dutiful dancetanis took him aside and begged, "dear, wouldn't you like to do something for me?i'm all out of booze, and the bunch want to celebrate. couldn't you just skip down to healeyhanson's and get some?" "sure," he said, trying not to soundsullen. "i'll tell you: i'll get minnie sonntag todrive down with you." tanis was pointing to the thin, sarcasticyoung woman. miss sonntag greeted him with an astringent"how d'you do, mr. babbitt. tanis tells me you're a very prominent man,and i'm honored by being allowed to drive

with you. of course i'm not accustomed to associatingwith society people like you, so i don't know how to act in such exalted circles!"thus miss sonntag talked all the way down to healey hanson's. to her jibes he wanted to reply "oh, go tothe devil!" but he never quite nerved himself to that reasonable comment.he was resenting the existence of the whole bunch. he had heard tanis speak of "darlingcarrie" and "min sonntag--she's so clever-- you'll adore her," but they had never beenreal to him.

he had pictured tanis as living in a rose-tinted vacuum, waiting for him, free of all the complications of a floral heights.when they returned he had to endure the patronage of the young soda-clerks. they were as damply friendly as misssonntag was dryly hostile. they called him "old georgie" and shouted,"come on now, sport; shake a leg"...boys in belted coats, pimply boys, as young as tedand as flabby as chorus-men, but powerful to dance and to mind the phonograph andsmoke cigarettes and patronize tanis. he tried to be one of them; he cried "goodwork, pete!" but his voice creaked. tanis apparently enjoyed the companionshipof the dancing darlings; she bridled to

their bland flirtation and casually kissedthem at the end of each dance. babbitt hated her, for the moment. he saw her as middle-aged.he studied the wrinkles in the softness of her throat, the slack flesh beneath herchin. the taut muscles of her youth were looseand drooping. between dances she sat in the largestchair, waving her cigarette, summoning her callow admirers to come and talk to her. ("she thinks she's a blooming queen!"growled babbitt.) she chanted to miss sonntag, "isn't mylittle studio sweet?"

("studio, rats! it's a plain old-maid-and-chow-dog flat!oh, god, i wish i was home! i wonder if i can't make a getaway now?") his vision grew blurred, however, as heapplied himself to healey hanson's raw but vigorous whisky.he blended with the bunch. he began to rejoice that carrie nork andpete, the most nearly intelligent of the nimble youths, seemed to like him; and itwas enormously important to win over the surly older man, who proved to be a railwayclerk named fulton bemis. the conversation of the bunch wasexclamatory, high-colored, full of

references to people whom babbitt did notknow. apparently they thought very comfortably ofthemselves. they were the bunch, wise and beautiful andamusing; they were bohemians and urbanites, accustomed to all the luxuries of zenith:dance-halls, movie-theaters, and roadhouses; and in a cynical superiority to people who were "slow" or "tightwad" theycackled: "oh, pete, did i tell you what that dub ofa cashier said when i came in late yesterday? oh, it was per-fect-ly priceless!""oh, but wasn't t. d. stewed!

say, he was simply ossified!what did gladys say to him?" "think of the nerve of bob bickerstafftrying to get us to come to his house! say, the nerve of him!can you beat it for nerve? some nerve i call it!" "did you notice how dotty was dancing?gee, wasn't she the limit!" babbitt was to be heard sonorously agreeingwith the once-hated miss minnie sonntag that persons who let a night go by withoutdancing to jazz music were crabs, pikers, and poor fish; and he roared "you bet!" when mrs. carrie nork gurgled, "don't youlove to sit on the floor?

it's so bohemian!"he began to think extremely well of the when he mentioned his friends sir geralddoak, lord wycombe, william washington eathorne, and chum frink, he was proud oftheir condescending interest. he got so thoroughly into the jocund spiritthat he didn't much mind seeing tanis drooping against the shoulder of theyoungest and milkiest of the young men, and he himself desired to hold carrie nork's pulpy hand, and dropped it only becausetanis looked angry. when he went home, at two, he was fully amember of the bunch, and all the week thereafter he was bound by the exceedinglystraitened conventions, the exceedingly

wearing demands, of their life of pleasureand freedom. he had to go to their parties; he wasinvolved in the agitation when everybody telephoned to everybody else that shehadn't meant what she'd said when she'd said that, and anyway, why was pete goingaround saying she'd said it? never was a family more insistent onlearning one another's movements than were the bunch. all of them volubly knew, or indignantlydesired to know, where all the others had been every minute of the week. babbitt found himself explaining to carrieor fulton bemis just what he had been doing

that he should not have joined them tillten o'clock, and apologizing for having gone to dinner with a businessacquaintance. every member of the bunch was expected totelephone to every other member at least once a week. "why haven't you called me up?"babbitt was asked accusingly, not only by tanis and carrie but presently by newancient friends, jennie and capitolina and toots. if for a moment he had seen tanis aswithering and sentimental, he lost that impression at carrie nork's dance.mrs. nork had a large house and a small

husband. to her party came all of the bunch, perhapsthirty-five of them when they were completely mobilized. babbitt, under the name of "old georgie,"was now a pioneer of the bunch, since each month it changed half its membership and hewho could recall the prehistoric days of a fortnight ago, before mrs. absolom, the food-demonstrator, had gone toindianapolis, and mac had "got sore at" minnie, was a venerable leader and able tocondescend to new petes and minnies and gladyses.

at carrie's, tanis did not have to work atbeing hostess. she was dignified and sure, a clear finefigure in the black chiffon frock he had always loved; and in the wider spaces ofthat ugly house babbitt was able to sit quietly with her. he repented of his first revulsion, moonedat her feet, and happily drove her home. next day he bought a violent yellow tie, tomake himself young for her. he knew, a little sadly, that he could notmake himself beautiful; he beheld himself as heavy, hinting of fatness, but hedanced, he dressed, he chattered, to be as young as she was...as young as she seemedto be.

iv as all converts, whether to a religion,love, or gardening, find as by magic that though hitherto these hobbies have notseemed to exist, now the whole world is filled with their fury, so, once he was converted to dissipation, babbittdiscovered agreeable opportunities for it everywhere.he had a new view of his sporting neighbor, sam doppelbrau. the doppelbraus were respectable people,industrious people, prosperous people, whose ideal of happiness was an eternalcabaret.

their life was dominated by suburbanbacchanalia of alcohol, nicotine, gasoline, and kisses. they and their set worked capably all theweek, and all week looked forward to saturday night, when they would, as theyexpressed it, "throw a party;" and the thrown party grew noisier and noisier up to sunday dawn, and usually included anextremely rapid motor expedition to nowhere in particular. one evening when tanis was at the theater,babbitt found himself being lively with the doppelbraus, pledging friendship with menwhom he had for years privily denounced to

mrs. babbitt as a "rotten bunch of tin- horns that i wouldn't go out with, rot ifthey were the last people on earth." that evening he had sulkily come home andpoked about in front of the house, chipping off the walk the ice-clots, like fossilfootprints, made by the steps of passers-by during the recent snow. howard littlefield came up snuffling."still a widower, george?" "yump.cold again to-night." "what do you hear from the wife?" "she's feeling fine, but her sister isstill pretty sick."

"say, better come in and have dinner withus to-night, george." "oh--oh, thanks. have to go out."suddenly he could not endure littlefield's recitals of the more interesting statisticsabout totally uninteresting problems. he scraped at the walk and grunted. sam doppelbrau appeared."evenin', babbitt. working hard?""yuh, lil exercise." "cold enough for you to-night?" "well, just about.""still a widower?"

"uh-huh." "say, babbitt, while she's away--i know youdon't care much for booze-fights, but the missus and i'd be awfully glad if you couldcome in some night. think you could stand a good cocktail foronce?" "stand it?young fella, i bet old uncle george can mix the best cocktail in these united states!" "hurray!that's the way to talk! look here: there's some folks coming to thehouse to-night, louetta swanson and some other live ones, and i'm going to open up abottle of pre-war gin, and maybe we'll

dance a while. why don't you drop in and jazz it up alittle, just for a change?" "well--what time they coming?"he was at sam doppelbrau's at nine. it was the third time he had entered thehouse. by ten he was calling mr. doppelbrau "sam,old hoss." at eleven they all drove out to the oldfarm inn. babbitt sat in the back of doppelbrau's carwith louetta swanson. once he had timorously tried to make loveto her. now he did not try; he merely made love;and louetta dropped her head on his

shoulder, told him what a nagger eddie was,and accepted babbitt as a decent and well- trained libertine. with the assistance of tanis's bunch, thedoppelbraus, and other companions in forgetfulness, there was not an evening fortwo weeks when he did not return home late and shaky. with his other faculties blurred he yet hadthe motorist's gift of being able to drive when he could scarce walk; of slowing downat corners and allowing for approaching cars. he came wambling into the house.if verona and kenneth escott were about, he

got past them with a hasty greeting,horribly aware of their level young glances, and hid himself up-stairs. he found when he came into the warm housethat he was hazier than he had believed. his head whirled.he dared not lie down. he tried to soak out the alcohol in a hotbath. for the moment his head was clearer butwhen he moved about the bathroom his calculations of distance were wrong, sothat he dragged down the towels, and knocked over the soap-dish with a clatter which, he feared, would betray him to thechildren.

chilly in his dressing-gown he tried toread the evening paper. he could follow every word; he seemed totake in the sense of things; but a minute afterward he could not have told what hehad been reading. when he went to bed his brain flew incircles, and he hastily sat up, struggling for self-control. at last he was able to lie still, feelingonly a little sick and dizzy--and enormously ashamed.to hide his "condition" from his own children! to have danced and shouted with people whomhe despised!

to have said foolish things, sung idioticsongs, tried to kiss silly girls! incredulously he remembered that he had byhis roaring familiarity with them laid himself open to the patronizing of youthswhom he would have kicked out of his office; that by dancing too ardently he had exposed himself to rebukes from therattiest of withering women. as it came relentlessly back to him hesnarled, "i hate myself! god how i hate myself!" but, he raged, "i'm through!no more! had enough, plenty!"

he was even surer about it the morningafter, when he was trying to be grave and paternal with his daughters at breakfast.at noontime he was less sure. he did not deny that he had been a fool; hesaw it almost as clearly as at midnight; but anything, he struggled, was better thangoing back to a life of barren heartiness. at four he wanted a drink. he kept a whisky flask in his desk now, andafter two minutes of battle he had his drink. three drinks later he began to see thebunch as tender and amusing friends, and by six he was with them...and the tale was tobe told all over.

each morning his head ached a little less. a bad head for drinks had been hissafeguard, but the safeguard was crumbling. presently he could be drunk at dawn, yetnot feel particularly wretched in his conscience--or in his stomach--when heawoke at eight. no regret, no desire to escape the toil ofkeeping up with the arduous merriment of the bunch, was so great as his feeling ofsocial inferiority when he failed to keep up. to be the "livest" of them was as much hisambition now as it had been to excel at making money, at playing golf, at motor-driving, at oratory, at climbing to the

mckelvey set. but occasionally he failed.he found that pete and the other young men considered the bunch too austerely politeand the carrie who merely kissed behind doors too embarrassingly monogamic. as babbitt sneaked from floral heights downto the bunch, so the young gallants sneaked from the proprieties of the bunch off to"times" with bouncing young women whom they picked up in department stores and at hotelcoatrooms. once babbitt tried to accompany them. there was a motor car, a bottle of whisky,and for him a grubby shrieking cash-girl

from parcher and stein's.he sat beside her and worried. he was apparently expected to "jolly heralong," but when she sang out, "hey, leggo, quit crushing me cootie-garage," he did notquite know how to go on. they sat in the back room of a saloon, andbabbitt had a headache, was confused by their new slang looked at thembenevolently, wanted to go home, and had a drink--a good many drinks. two evenings after, fulton bemis, the surlyolder man of the bunch, took babbitt aside and grunted, "look here, it's none of mybusiness, and god knows i always lap up my share of the hootch, but don't you thinkyou better watch yourself?

you're one of these enthusiastic chumpsthat always overdo things. d' you realize you're throwing in the boozeas fast as you can, and you eat one cigarette right after another?better cut it out for a while." babbitt tearfully said that good old fultwas a prince, and yes, he certainly would cut it out, and thereafter he lighted acigarette and took a drink and had a terrific quarrel with tanis when she caughthim being affectionate with carrie nork. next morning he hated himself that heshould have sunk into a position where a fifteenth-rater like fulton bemis couldrebuke him. he perceived that, since he was making loveto every woman possible, tanis was no

longer his one pure star, and he wonderedwhether she had ever been anything more to him than a woman. and if bemis had spoken to him, were otherpeople talking about him? he suspiciously watched the men at theathletic club that noon. it seemed to him that they were uneasy. they had been talking about him then?he was angry. he became belligerent. he not only defended seneca doane but evenmade fun of the y. m. c. a, vergil gunch was rather brief in his answers.afterward babbitt was not angry.

he was afraid. he did not go to the next lunch of theboosters' club but hid in a cheap restaurant, and, while he munched a ham-and-egg sandwich and sipped coffee from a cup on the arm of his chair, he worried. four days later, when the bunch were havingone of their best parties, babbitt drove them to the skating-rink which had beenlaid out on the chaloosa river. after a thaw the streets had frozen insmooth ice. down those wide endless streets the windrattled between the rows of wooden houses, and the whole bellevue district seemed afrontier town.

even with skid chains on all four wheels,babbitt was afraid of sliding, and when he came to the long slide of a hill he crawleddown, both brakes on. slewing round a corner came a less cautiouscar. it skidded, it almost raked them with itsrear fenders. in relief at their escape the bunch--tanis,minnie sonntag, pete, fulton bemis--shouted "oh, baby," and waved their hands to theagitated other driver. then babbitt saw professor pumphreylaboriously crawling up hill, afoot, staring owlishly at the revelers. he was sure that pumphrey recognized himand saw tanis kiss him as she crowed,

"you're such a good driver!" at lunch next day he probed pumphrey with"out last night with my brother and some friends of his.gosh, what driving! slippery 's glass. thought i saw you hiking up the bellevueavenue hill." "no, i wasn't--i didn't see you," saidpumphrey, hastily, rather guiltily. perhaps two days afterward babbitt tooktanis to lunch at the hotel thornleigh. she who had seemed well content to wait forhim at her flat had begun to hint with melancholy smiles that he must think butlittle of her if he never introduced her to

his friends, if he was unwilling to be seenwith her except at the movies. he thought of taking her to the "ladies'annex" of the athletic club, but that was too dangerous. he would have to introduce her and, oh,people might misunderstand and--he compromised on the thornleigh. she was unusually smart, all in black:small black tricorne hat, short black caracul coat, loose and swinging, andaustere high-necked black velvet frock at a time when most street costumes were likeevening gowns. perhaps she was too smart.

every one in the gold and oak restaurant ofthe thornleigh was staring at her as babbitt followed her to a table. he uneasily hoped that the head-waiterwould give them a discreet place behind a pillar, but they were stationed on thecenter aisle. tanis seemed not to notice her admirers;she smiled at babbitt with a lavish "oh, isn't this nice!what a peppy-looking orchestra!" babbitt had difficulty in being lavish inreturn, for two tables away he saw vergil all through the meal gunch watched them,while babbitt watched himself being watched and lugubriously tried to keep fromspoiling tanis's gaiety.

"i felt like a spree to-day," she rippled. "i love the thornleigh, don't you?it's so live and yet so--so refined." he made talk about the thornleigh, theservice, the food, the people he recognized in the restaurant, all but vergil gunch. there did not seem to be anything else totalk of. he smiled conscientiously at her flutteringjests; he agreed with her that minnie sonntag was "so hard to get along with,"and young pete "such a silly lazy kid, really just no good at all." but he himself had nothing to say.he considered telling her his worries about

gunch, but--"oh, gosh, it was too much workto go into the whole thing and explain about verg and everything." he was relieved when he put tanis on atrolley; he was cheerful in the familiar simplicities of his office.at four o'clock vergil gunch called on him. babbitt was agitated, but gunch began in afriendly way: "how's the boy?say, some of us are getting up a scheme we'd kind of like to have you come in on." "fine, verg.shoot." "you know during the war we had theundesirable element, the reds and walking

delegates and just the plain commongrouches, dead to rights, and so did we for quite a while after the war, but folks forget about the danger and that givesthese cranks a chance to begin working underground again, especially a lot ofthese parlor socialists. well, it's up to the folks that do a littlesound thinking to make a conscious effort to keep bucking these fellows. some guy back east has organized a societycalled the good citizens' league for just that purpose. of course the chamber of commerce and theamerican legion and so on do a fine work in

keeping the decent people in the saddle,but they're devoted to so many other causes that they can't attend to this one problemproperly. but the good citizens' league, the g. c.l., they stick right to it. oh, the g. c. l. has to have some otherostensible purposes--frinstance here in zenith i think it ought to support thepark-extension project and the city planning committee--and then, too, it should have a social aspect, being made upof the best people--have dances and so on, especially as one of the best ways it canput the kibosh on cranks is to apply this social boycott business to folks big enoughso you can't reach 'em otherwise.

then if that don't work, the g. c. l. canfinally send a little delegation around to inform folks that get too flip that theygot to conform to decent standards and quit shooting off their mouths so free. don't it sound like the organization coulddo a great work? we've already got some of the strongest menin town, and of course we want you in. how about it?" babbitt was uncomfortable.he felt a compulsion back to all the standards he had so vaguely yet sodesperately been fleeing. he fumbled:

"i suppose you'd especially light onfellows like seneca doane and try to make 'em--""you bet your sweet life we would! look here, old georgie: i've never for onemoment believed you meant it when you've defended doane, and the strikers and so on,at the club. i knew you were simply kidding those poorgaloots like sid finkelstein.... at least i certainly hope you werekidding!" "oh, well--sure--course you might say--"babbitt was conscious of how feeble he sounded, conscious of gunch's mature andrelentless eye. "gosh, you know where i stand!

i'm no labor agitator!i'm a business man, first, last, and all the time! but--but honestly, i don't think doanemeans so badly, and you got to remember he's an old friend of mine." "george, when it comes right down to astruggle between decency and the security of our homes on the one hand, and red ruinand those lazy dogs plotting for free beer on the other, you got to give up even oldfriendships. 'he that is not with me is against me.'""ye-es, i suppose--" "how about it?

going to join us in the good citizens'league?" "i'll have to think it over, verg.""all right, just as you say." babbitt was relieved to be let off soeasily, but gunch went on: "george, i don't know what's come over you; none of us do;and we've talked a lot about you. for a while we figured out you'd been upsetby what happened to poor riesling, and we forgave you for any fool thing you said,but that's old stuff now, george, and we can't make out what's got into you. personally, i've always defended you, but imust say it's getting too much for me. all the boys at the athletic club and theboosters' are sore, the way you go on

deliberately touting doane and his bunch ofhell-hounds, and talking about being liberal--which means being wishy-washy--and even saying this preacher guy ingram isn'ta professional free-love artist. and then the way you been carrying onpersonally! joe pumphrey says he saw you out the othernight with a gang of totties, all stewed to the gills, and here to-day coming rightinto the thornleigh with a--well, she may be all right and a perfect lady, but she certainly did look like a pretty gay skirtfor a fellow with his wife out of town to be taking to lunch.didn't look well.

what the devil has come over you, george?" "strikes me there's a lot of fellows thatknow more about my personal business than i do myself!" "now don't go getting sore at me because icome out flatfooted like a friend and say what i think instead of tattling behindyour back, the way a whole lot of 'em do. i tell you george, you got a position inthe community, and the community expects you to live up to it.and--better think over joining the good citizens' league. see you about it later."he was gone.

that evening babbitt dined alone. he saw all the clan of good fellows peeringthrough the restaurant window, spying on him. fear sat beside him, and he told himselfthat to-night he would not go to tanis's flat; and he did not go...till late.