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"Listen," she leaned close again, "I like clevermen, and, of course, no one cares more for personality than I do Oh, just one person in fifty has any glimmer of what sex is I'm hipped on Freud and all that, but it's rotten that every bit of real love in the world is ninety-nine per cent passion and one little soupcon of jealousy" She finished as suddenly as she began

"Of course, you're right," A force that's part of theIt's like an actor that lets you see his mechanics! Wait a et athe road about fifty feet to the left

"You see every one's got to have some cloak to throw around it The mediocre intellects, Plato's second class, use the remnants of romantic chivalry diluted with Victorian sentiment--and ho consider ourselves the intellectuals cover it up by pretending that it's another side of us, has nothing to do with our shining brains; we pretend that the fact that we realize it is really absolving us froht in the middle of our purest abstractions, so close that it obscures vision I can kiss you now and will " He leaned toward her in his saddle, but she dreay

"I can't--I can't kiss you now--I'm more sensitive"

"You're more stupid then," he declared rather impatiently "Intellect is no protection from sex any more than convention is"

"What is?" she fired up "The Catholic Church or the maxims of Confucius?"

Amory looked up, rather taken aback

"That's your panacea, isn't it?" she cried "Oh, you're just an old hypocrite, too Thousands of scowling priests keeping the degenerate Italians and illiterate Irish repentant with gabble-gabble about the sixth and ninth coe and panaceas I'll tell you there is no God, not even a definite abstract goodness; so it's all got to be worked out for the individual by the individual here in high white foreheads like o her reins and shook her little fists at the stars

"If there's a God let hiain after the manner of atheists," Amory said sharply His materialism, always a thin cloak, was torn to shreds by Eleanor's blaspheered him that she knew it