People Like That | Page 8

in my lap, my eyes on them that he might not see their smiling. "I was just wondering what that had to do with certain present-day conditions, certain injustices and inequalities, certain--"
"It explains them to some extent. From the earliest days of dawning thought, from the first efforts at self-expression, humanity has grouped itself not only into families, tribes, communities, nations, or what you will, but in each of these divisions there have ever been subdivisions. Ignorance and knowledge, strength and weakness, power and incapacity, find their level, rise or fall according to their proper place. If you have any little dreams of making all human beings after one pattern--"
"I haven't. It would be as uninteresting as impossible. But it is queer--"
"What is queer?" Selwyn stooped forward and broke a lump of coal from which sprang blazing reds and curling blues of flame. "Why did you stop?"
"I was thinking it was queer you should know so much of the history of the human race and so little of its life to-day. As a shrugger you stand off."
"For the love of Heaven don't let's get on that!"
With swift movement he took a cigar from one pocket, a match-case from another. "May I smoke?" he asked, irritably, and as I nodded he struck a match and held it to the cigar in his mouth, then threw it in the fire. Presently he looked at me.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming here--for a while?"
"It would have meant more argument. You would not have approved."
"I most assuredly would not. But that would have made no difference. My disapproval would not have prevented."
"No. I should have come, of course. But I was tired, and useless discussion does no good. We would have said again the same old things we've said so often, and I didn't want to say them or hear them. One of the reasons why I came down here was to talk with people who weren't born with made-up minds, and who don't have high walls around their homes."
"There are times when I would like to put them around you! If you were mine I'd do it."
"No, you wouldn't. You know perfectly well what I would do with walls. That is the kind you think should be around a woman. But we won't get on that, either. Were you ever in Scarborough Square before?"
Selwyn nodded and looked, not at me, but at the spirals of smoke from his cigar. "My grandfather used to live on the opposite side of the Square, and as a kid I was brought occasionally to see him. I barely remember him. He died thirty years ago."
"It's difficult to imagine this was once the fashionable part of the city, and that gorgeous parties and balls--" I sat upright and laughed. "I went to a party last night. It was a wonderful party."
"You did what?"
Selwyn's cigar was held suspended on its way to his lips. "Whose party? Where was it?"
"Two doors from here. The girl who gave it, or rather, to whom it was given, is named Bryce--Evelyn Bryce. She is a friend of Mrs. Mundy's and is a printer. I never knew a girl printer until I came down here."
Selwyn's look of amazed disapprobation had its usual effect. I hadn't intended to mention the party, and instantly I went into its details.
"All kinds of people were at it and every woman had on a dress which entirely covered her. When I was a child I adored a person named Wyman, who used to give performances in which all sorts of unexpected things happened. Last night was a sort of Wyman night."
"I did not know you were going to parties." Selwyn's tone was curt.
"I am not--to your sort." My face flushed. "I said this girl was a printer. I should have said she used to be. Two years ago she was caught in some machinery at the place where she worked and has never been able to stand up since. On her birthday her friends give her a party that she may have a bit of brightness. I went over to play that they might dance. She is fond of music and an old piano has recently been given her by--by some one interested in her."
For a moment there was silence, then throwing his cigar in the fire, Selwyn got up and stood looking down at me. In his eyes was strange worry and unrest.
"I beg your pardon." He bit his lips. "I've been pretty ragged of late and I'm always thoughtless. For two weeks I've seen no one--that is, no friend of yours or mine who hasn't asked me why you have done so inexplicable a thing as to leave everybody you know and go into a part of the town where you know nobody and where--"
"It's