One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. The four tourists contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. ’ So saying, she threw a meaning look over her shoulder at Lucilla, much to Gerald’s approval. You look very handsome. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. Then they appear among the lower things”—she made meticulous gestures to figure the scale of life; she seemed to be holding up specimens, and peering through her glasses at them —“among crustaceans and things, just as little creatures, ever so inferior to the females. Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered.
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