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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"Nobody's Man"

' Look at you--haggard, losing weight every day, poring
over papers, scheming, planning, writing articles, pouring out the great
gift of your life twice as fast as you need. No one will thank you for
it. It's quite enough to give half your soul and the joy of living to
work for others. Keep something up your sleeve for yourself, Tallente.
Mark you, that's the soundest thing in twentieth century philosophy
you'll ever hear of.--Corner of Clarges Street right for you, eh?"
Tallente held out his hand.
"Horlock," he said, "thank you. I know you're right but unfortunately I
am not like you. I haven't an idyllic retreat, a charming companion
waiting for me there, a life outside that's so wonderful. I am driven
on because there's nothing else."
Horlock laid his hand upon his companion's shoulder. His tone was
suddenly grave--amply sympathetic.
"My friend--and enemy," he said. "If that is so--I'm sorry for you."

CHAPTER XX
There was a tense air of expectation amongst the little company of men
who filed into one of the smaller lecture rooms attached to Demos House
a few afternoons later.


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