The consciousness that their affection was the
perpetuation of a lustful love disheartened and revolted him. Until
that memory disappeared his punishment would not be over.
He stopped and leaned his hand on the table. "I thought I was a big
enough man to rise above conventional morality," he said. "But I doubt
if any man is when circumstances have combines to make him seriously
face the question. He might, if born a red Indian, but not if
saturated in his plastic days with the codes and dogmas of the world.
They cling, they cling, and reason cannot oust them. The society in
whose enveloping, penetrating atmosphere he has lived his life decrees
that it is a sin to seduce another man's wife or to live with a woman
outside the pale of the Church. Therefore sin, down in the roots of
his consciousness, he believes it; therefore, to perpetuate a sinful
love--I am becoming a petty moralist," he broke off impatiently; "but
I can't help it. I am a triumph of civilization."
He stood up and threw back his shoulders. "Let it go for the present,"
he said.
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