act for Nellie, Norah and himself. Or he might work for a few weeks in picture theatres.
At any event, he would avoid liquor and old friends. He would live alone. He would maintain this even temperament that was now his, the ability to think straight. He would revert to that period before he met Howard, when for nearly two years he had tasted no liquor, indulged in no parties and had had no affairs of any kind.
He would, he decided, avoid emotional stress. The slate was clean now. He had spent five months in Selma and except for a letter from Leon, he had heard from no one in New York. Why should he bother with faithless friends? Had they not used him? Hadn't he paid their bills open-handedly? And amused them?
He was restored, he thought. His path lay wide before him. He would continue to live sanely in New York. He might even decide to marry. It was conceivable that he might find in New York a young woman whose social position would be assured, who would be attracted to him because of his physical charm and his personality, whose moral standards would be irreproachable and who would establish for him the solid basis of a safe position—home and a family.
If he should meet such a woman, he would, as Mr. Barton put it, cleave to her at once. He would propose marriage and go through with it. Love of the sort one reads about—that might develop. Indeed, sentimental love would be unimportant. Salient only would be her guardianship over him, the many minor details of marriage, the little things of life—distractions, petty scenes, localized interests.
To attain this commonplace goal, Ken would begin to observe women. He had never really noticed them before.
