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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"North of Fifty-Three"

With here and there a solitary
exception that class is hopeless in its smug self-satisfaction--its
narrowness of outlook, and unblushing exploitation of the less
fortunate, repels me.
And to dabble my hands in their muck, to settle down and live my life
according to their bourgeois standards, to have grossness of soft flesh
replace able sinews, to submerge mentality in favor of a specious
craftiness of mind which passes in the "city" for brains--well, I'm on
the road. And, oh, girl, girl, I wish you were with me.
I must explain this mining deal--that phase of it which sent me on the
rampage in Granville. I should have done so before, should have
insisted on making it clear to you. But a fellow doesn't always do the
proper thing at the proper time. All too frequently we are dominated
by our emotions rather than by our judgment. It was so with me. The
other side had been presented to you rather cleverly at the right time.
And your ready acceptance of it angered me beyond bounds. You were
prejudiced. It stirred me to a perfect fury to think you couldn't be
absolutely loyal to your pal. When you took that position I simply
couldn't attempt explanations. Do you think I'd ever have taken the
other fellow's side against you, right or wrong?
Anyway, here it is: You got the essentials, up to a certain point, from
Brooks.


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