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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

He felt full of
life and gayety, and a challenging mental activity. A similar
challenging activity, he thought, shone in the eyes of the girl
opposite to him.
"Thank God I can still be foolish!" he exclaimed. "And thank God that
there are people in the world devoid of humor. My German friend was
without humor. Only that fact enabled me to endure his prodigious
collection of ailments. But for the heat I might even have revelled in
them. He was asthmatic, without humor; dyspeptic, without humor. He
had a bad cold in the head, without humor, and got up into the top
berth with two rheumatic legs and a crick in the back, without humor.
Had he seen the fun of himself, the fun would have meant much less to
me."
"You cruel person!"
"There is often cruelty in humor--perhaps not in yours, though, yet."
"Why do you say--yet, like that?"
"The hair is such a kindly veil that I doubt the existence of cruelty
behind it."
He spoke with a sort of almost tender and paternal gentleness.


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