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Chapter 7

           "Exactly!—Howisitpossible?Andtherewehaveit—howcanonefeel,whenone’sselfissothoroughlycomfortableastobewithoutanyotherfeelingsavethatofmaterialease?Thus,mydearGeoffrey,youmustbecontenttoletyourbookappearasthereflexandrecordofyourpastwhenyouwereinthepricklyorsensitivestage—nowyouareencasedinapachydermatouscoveringofgold,whichadequatelyprotectsyoufromsuchinfluencesasmighthavemadeyoustartandwrithe,perhapsevenroarwithindignation,andintheaccessoffiercetorture,stretchoutyourhandsandgrasp—quiteunconsciously—thewingedthingcalledFame!"

           "Youshouldhavebeenanorator,"—Isaid,risingandpacingtheroomtoandfroinvexation—"Buttomeyourwordsarenotconsoling,andIdonotthinktheyaretrue.Fameiseasilyenoughsecured."

           "PardonmeifIamobstinate;"—saidLuciowithadeprecatorygesture—"Notorietyiseasilysecured—veryeasily.Afewcriticswhohavedinedwithyouandhadtheirfillofwine,willgiveyounotoriety.Butfameisthevoiceofthewholecivilizedpublicoftheworld."

           "Thepublic!"Iechoedcontemptuously—"Thepubliconlycarefortrash."

           "Itisapityyoushouldappealtoitthen;"—herespondedwithasmile—"Ifyouthinksolittleofthepublicwhygiveitanythingofyourbrain?Itisnotworthyofsorareaboon!Come,comeTempest—donotjoininthesnarlofunsuccessfulauthorswhotakerefuge,whenmarkedunsaleable,inpouringoutabuseonthepublic.

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