 more correctly, but he spoke
more easily, and there were many new words in his vocabulary. When he grew
excited or enthusiastic, however, he dropped back into the old slurring and the
dropping of final consonants. Also, there was an awkward hesitancy, at times, as
he essayed the new words he had learned. On the other hand, along with his ease
of expression, he displayed a lightness and facetiousness of thought that
delighted her. It was his old spirit of humor and badinage that had made him a
favorite in his own class, but which he had hitherto been unable to use in her
presence through lack of words and training. He was just beginning to orientate
himself and to feel that he was not wholly an intruder. But he was very
tentative, fastidiously so, letting Ruth set the pace of sprightliness and
fancy, keeping up with her but never daring to go beyond her.
    He told her of what he had been doing, and of his plan to write for a
livelihood and of going on with his studies. But he was disappointed at her lack
of approval. She did not think much of his plan.
    »You see,« she said frankly, »writing must be a trade, like anything else.
Not that I know anything about it, of course. I only bring common judgment to
bear. You couldn't hope to be a blacksmith without spending three years at
learning the trade - or is it five years! Now writers are so much better paid
than blacksmiths that there must be ever so many more men who would like to
write, who - try to write.«
    »But then, may not I be peculiarly constituted to write?« he queried,
secretly exulting at the language he had used, his swift imagination throwing
the whole scene and atmosphere upon a vast screen along with a thousand other
scenes from his life - scenes that were rough and raw, gross and bestial.
    The whole composite vision was achieved with the speed of light, producing
no pause in the conversation, nor interrupting his calm train of thought. On the
screen of his imagination he saw himself and this sweet and beautiful girl,
facing each other and conversing in good English, in a room of books and
paintings and tone and culture, and all illuminated by a bright light of
steadfast brilliance; while ranged about and fading away to the remote edges of
the screen were antithetical scenes, each scene a picture, and he the onlooker,
free to look at will upon what he wished. He saw these other scenes through
drifting vapors and swirls of sullen fog
