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|There is nothing more unsettling than a sudden uncalculated,
incalculable success. It at once thrills, depresses, confuses. People
attack with the most unexpected venom. Others, the most unexpected
others, defend with vehemence, One feels queerly out of it, yet
forlornly conspicuous. As if it were some one else, or a dream. Innocent
effort dragged to the public arena, quarrelled over, misunderstood. One
boasts and apologises in a breath; dreads the thing will keep up and
fears it will stop; finds one day it has stopped and ever after thinks
back in sentimental retrospect to the good old days, the great days,
when one did stir them up a bit.
Henry awoke on this Saturday morning to a sense of trouble that hung
heavily over him during the walk with Humphrey from the rooms to
Stanley's. Nothing of the stir reached them here. They were so late that
the restaurant was about empty. Humphrey did hear a faint, distant voice
booming, but gave no particular thought to it at the moment. And the
Stanleys went quietly about their business as usual. Henry, indeed, was
deep in his personal concern.
This found words over the oatmeal. He drew a rumpled paper from his
pocket and submitted it to his room mate.
'Got this last night,' Henry explained moodily.