A feeling of sharp and
irritating remorse stung him from the thought that he, whose whole
sensuous nature strove for selfish joyousness in life, was discussing
this question from his own standpoint, while the pale, lovely girl
before him was regarding the whole problem from the high plane of duty.
Instinctively he set himself to justify his position against hers; to
demonstrate that his Pagan, selfish philosophy was the true guide.
"Oh," he cried out with sudden vehemence, waving his palette with a
gesture of supreme impatience, "I do take a desperate view! Life is
desperate, and the most absurd of all the multitudinous ways of making
it worse is to waste the present in dreading the future. I've no
patience with the notion that seems to be so many people's creed, that
we can do nothing nobler than to be as miserable as possible. It is a
dreadful remainder of that awful malady of Puritanism. Besides, where
is the logic of supposing we shall be better prepared for any
misfortune that may come if we can only contrive to dread it enough
beforehand. Good heavens! We all need whatever strength we can get from
happiness whenever it comes, as much as a plant needs the sunshine
while it lasts. You wouldn't prepare a delicate plant for cloudy days
by keeping it in the shadow; and I think one is simply an idiot who
keeps in the shade to accustom himself to-day after to-morrow's storm.
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