is above
you, so far above you that you can never hope to rise to it. Why, man, I could
insult you by asking you to have something to eat.«
    Martin felt the heat in his face of the involuntary blood, and Brissenden
laughed triumphantly.
    »A full man is not insulted by such an invitation,« he concluded.
    »You are a devil,« Martin cried irritably.
    »Anyway, I didn't ask you.«
    »You didn't dare.«
    »Oh, I don't know about that. I invite you now.«
    Brissenden half rose from his chair as he spoke, as if with the intention of
departing to the restaurant forthwith.
    Martin's fists were tight-clenched, and his blood was drumming in his
temples.
    »Bosco! He eats 'em alive! Eats 'em alive!« Brissenden exclaimed, imitating
the spieler of a locally famous snake-eater.
    »I could certainly eat you alive,« Martin said, in turn running insolent
eyes over the other's disease-ravaged frame.
    »Only I'm not worthy of it?«
    »On the contrary,« Martin considered, »because the incident is not worthy.«
He broke into a laugh, hearty and wholesome. »I confess you made a fool of me,
Brissenden. That I am hungry and you are aware of it are only ordinary
phenomena, and there's no disgrace. You see, I laugh at the conventional little
moralities of the herd; then you drift by, say a sharp, true word, and
immediately I am the slave of the same little moralities.«
    »You were insulted,« Brissenden affirmed.
    »I certainly was, a moment ago. The prejudice of early youth, you know. I
learned such things then, and they cheapen what I have since learned. They are
the skeletons in my particular closet.«
    »But you've got the door shut on them now?«
    »I certainly have.«
    »Sure?«
    »Sure.«
    »Then let's go and get something to eat.«
    »I'll go you,« Martin answered, attempting to pay for the current Scotch and
soda with the last change from his two dollars and seeing the waiter bullied by
Brissenden into putting that change back on the table.
    Martin pocketed it with a grimace, and felt for a moment the kindly weight
of Brissenden's hand upon his shoulder.
 

                                 Chapter XXXII

Promptly, the next afternoon, Maria was excited by Martin's