One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. Goopes disconcerted the Alderman a little by abruptly challenging the roguish-looking young man in the orange tie (who, it seemed, was the assistant editor of New Ideas) upon a critique of Nietzsche and Tolstoy that had appeared in his paper, in which doubts had been cast upon the perfect sincerity of the latter. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park.
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