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. "'The Man Who Could Not Go Home. “It is, if anything, a little above the average,” Brendon admitted. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. What has been the matter?” “Toothache,” he answered laconically. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. That’s my advice. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. The change has given man one good thing he never had before,” he said.
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