He roused himself after
a little and smoked, nodding his head to emphasize the points of his
thought.
This Polder had shown the instinct of breeding; while Mariana was--just
what she was he couldn't for the life of him determine. A hussy, he
decided temporarily. After all, his own time, when black and white had
been distinguishable, was best. Howat Penny relinquished, with a sigh,
the effort to penetrate to-day; he was content to be left behind; out of
the grinding rush, the dizzy speed, of progression. His day, when black
had been black, was immeasurably superior; the women had been more
charming, the men erect, clothed in proper garb and pride. Where, now,
could be seen such an audience as Dr. Damrosch had gathered for his
first season of German opera? Not, certainly, at the performance he had
heard with Mariana two, no--three, winters ago. A vulgarized performance
in the spirit of a boulevard cafe. The whole present air, he told
himself, was wrong.
He looked at his watch, and was surprised to see that it was past ten.
Not a sound came from the porch; and he determined to go outside,
exercise the discretion which Mariana had cast to the winds. However, he
didn't stir; he could not summon the energy necessary for the combating
of their impetuous youth.
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