ROUND PEGS AND SQUARE HOLES
seemed to have come to life—the torsos leaning over, hunching their shoulders at him as if blaming him for their suffering; the masks mocking at his misery, leering at each other. It was a grewsome sight, and I did not shake off the memory of the scene for days.
“And so I hold,” added Herbert, with a sorrowful shake of his head “that it is neither pride nor suffering that kills men of this class. It is because they have failed to reach the pinnacle of their ideals—that goal for which some spirits risk both their lives and their hopes of heaven.”