nd in one place a greyish mole. Bah! the thing
is not a nose at all, but a bit of primordial chaos clapped on to my
face. But, being where the nose should be, it gets the credit of its
position from unthinking people. There is a gap in the order of the
universe in front of my face, a lump of unwrought material left over.
In that my true nose is hidden, as a statue is hidden in a lump of
marble, until the appointed time for the revelation shall come. At the
resurrection---- But one must not anticipate. Well, well. I do not
often talk about my nose, my friend, but you sat with a sympathetic
pose, it seemed to me, and to-night my heart is full of it. This
cursed nose! But do I weary you, thrusting my nose into your
meditations?"

"If," said the second man, his voice a little unsteady, as though he
was moved, "if it eases your mind to talk of your nose, pray talk."

"This nose, I say then, makes me think of the false noses of Carnival
times. Your dullest man has but to stick one on, and lo! mirth, wit,
and jollity. They are enough to make anything funny. I doubt if even
an Anglican bishop could wear one with impunity. Put an angel in one.
How would you like one popped on to _you_ now? Think of going
love-making, or addressing a public meeting, or dying gloriously, in a
nose like mine! Angelina laughs in your face, the public laughs, the
executioner at your martyrdom can hardly light the faggots for
laughing. By heaven! it is no joke. Often and often I have rebelled,
and said, 'I will not have this nose!'"

"But what can one do?"

"It is destiny. The bitter tragedy of it is that it is so comic.
Only, God knows, how glad I shall be when the Carnival is over, and I
may take the thing off and put it aside. The worst has been this
business of love. My mind is not unrefined, my body is healthy. I
know what tenderness is. But what woman could overlook a nose like
mine? How could she shut out her visions of it, and look her love into
my eyes, glaring at her over its immensity? I should have to make love
through an Inquisitor's hood, with its holes cut for the eyes--and even
then the shape would show. I have read, I have been told, I can
imagine what a lover's face is like--a sweet woman's face radiant with
love. But this Millbank penitentiary of flesh chills their dear
hearts."

He broke off suddenly, with loud ferocious curses. A young man who had
been sitting very close to a young woman on an adja