Yet 'courage' is a term
from-the-shoulder, and what I require is a word of finger-tips,
over-tones, ultra-rays--a word for the few who understand that to
leave a thing is more exquisite than to outwear it. It is by its
very fineness circumscribed--a feminine virtue. Women understand it
and keep it secret. I flatter myself that I have possessed the high
moment, vanished against the noon. Ah, my dear fellow--" he added,
lifting his glass to St. George's smile.
But little Cawthorne--all reality in his heliotrope outing and duck
and grey curls--raised a characteristic plaint.
"Oh, but I've done it," he mournfully reviewed. "When'll I ever be
in another island, in front of another vacated throne? Why didn't I
move into the palace, and set up a natty, up-to-date little
republic? I could have worn a crown as a matter of taste--what's the
use of a democracy if you aren't free to wear a crown? And what kind
of American am I, anyway, with this undeveloped taste for acquiring
islands? If they ever find this out at the polls my vote'll be
challenged.
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