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Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941

"Marching Men"

He stood by the wall bowing and staring boldly about and
thought that the confusion and distraction of mind that had followed
his first visit to Margaret at the settlement house was being
increased immeasurably with every passing moment. He looked at the
glittering chandelier on the ceiling and at the people moving about--
the men at ease, comfortable--the women with wonderfully delicate
expressive hands and with their round white necks and shoulders
showing above their gowns and a feeling of utter helplessness pervaded
him. Never before had he been in a company so feminine. He thought of
the beautiful women about him, seeing them in his direct crude and
forceful way merely as females at work among males, carrying forward
some purpose. "With all the softly suggestive sensuality of their
dress and their persons they must in some way have sapped the strength
and the purpose of these men who move among them so indifferently," he
thought. Within himself he knew of nothing to set up as a defence
against what he believed such beauty must become to the man who lived
with it. Its power he thought must be something monumental and he
looked with admiration at the quiet face of Margaret's father, moving
among his guests.
McGregor went out of the house and stood in the half darkness on the
veranda.


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