I might do something--this
afternoon. But it won't last. YOU--you have pride in your bones.
My pride will vanish at a laugh. My honour will go at a laugh. I'm
just exalted by a crisis. That's all. I'm an animal of
intelligence. Soul and pride are weak in me. My mouth waters, my
cheek brightens, at the sight of good things. And I've got a
lickerish tail, Benham. You don't know. You don't begin to
imagine. I'm secretive. But I quiver with hot and stirring
desires. And I'm indolent--dirty indolent. Benham, there are days
when I splash my bath about without getting into it. There are days
when I turn back from a walk because there's a cow in the field. . . .
But, I spare you the viler details. . . . And it's that makes me
hate fine people and try so earnestly to persuade myself that any
man is as good as any man, if not a trifle better. Because I know
it isn't so. . . ."
"Billy," said Benham, "you've the boldest mind that ever I met."
Prothero's face lit with satisfaction. Then his countenance fell
again. "I know I'm better there," he said, "and yet, see how I let
in a whole system of lies to cover my secret humiliations.
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