once you have set your will on any object, you crush every obstacle under your feet."
Mr. Sapling looked meekly down at his tennis shoes, but began to feel calmer, more lifted up. Perhaps he had been all these things without knowing it.
"Then you are cold and sarcastic."
Mr. Sapling attempted to look cold and sarcastic. He succeeded in a rude leer.
"And you're horribly world-weary, you care for nothing. You have drained philosophy to the dregs, and scoff at everything."
Mr. Sapling's inner feeling was that from now on he would simply scoff and scoff and scoff.
"Your only redeeming quality is that you are generous. You have tried to kill even this, but cannot. Yes," concluded the beautiful girl, "those are your faults, generous still, but cold, cynical, and relentless. Good night, Mr. Sapling."
And resisting all entreaties the beautiful girl passed from the verandah of the hotel and vanished.
And when later in the evening the brother of the beautiful girl borrowed Mr. Sapling's tennis racket, and his bicycle for a fortnight,
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