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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Fraternity"

"
"Well, who wants to? If you're thinking of our old friend's Fraternity,
I'm not taking any." And Stephen suddenly added: "Look here, I believe
this affair is all 'a plant.'"
"You see that Powder Magazine?" said Hilary. "Well, this business that
you call a 'plant' is more like that. I don't want to alarm you, but I
think you as well as our young friend Martin, are inclined to underrate
the emotional capacity of human nature."
Disquietude broke up the customary mask on Stephen's face: "I don't
understand," he stammered.
"Well, we're none of us machines, not even amateurs like me--not even
under-dogs like Hughs. I fancy you may find a certain warmth, not to say
violence, about this business. I tell you frankly that I don't live in
married celibacy quite with impunity. I can't answer for anything, in
fact. You had better stand clear, Stephen--that's all."
Stephen marked his thin hands quivering, and this alarmed him as nothing
else had done.
They walked on beside the water. Stephen spoke quietly, looking at the
ground. "How can I stand clear, old man, if you are going to get into a
mess? That's impossible."
He saw at once that this shot, which indeed was from his heart, had
gone right home to Hilary's. He sought within him how to deepen the
impression.
"You mean a lot to us," he said.


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