He Felt Married To Her, That Was

Reporting The Extreme Things As If They Were The Average Things Will Start You On The Art Of Fiction.

Men Don’t Often Know Those Times When A Girl Could Be Had For Nothing.

So We Beat On, Boats Against The Current, Borne Back Ceaselessly Into The Past.

My God,' He Gasped, 'you're Fun To Kiss.

The Past--the Wild Charge At The Head Of His Men Up San Juan Hill; The First Years Of His Marriage When He Worked Late Into The Summer Dusk Down In The Busy City For Young Hildegarde Whom He Loved; The Days Before That When He Sat Smoking Far Into The Night In The Gloomy Old Button House On Monroe Street With His Grandfather-all These Had Faded Like Unsubstantial Dreams From His Mind As Though They Had Never Been. He Did Not Remember.