degrees their once exciting engagements began to lapse, and despite
his grief Eugene was not altogether sorry. To tell the truth, great
physical discomfort recently had painted his romantic tendencies in a
very sorry light for him. He thought he saw in a way where they were
leading him. That there was no money in them was obvious. That the
affairs of the world were put in the hands of those who were content to
get their life's happiness out of their management, seemed quite plain.
Idlers had nothing as a rule, not even the respect of their fellow men.
The licentious were worn threadbare and disgraced by their ridiculous
and psychologically diseased propensities. Women and men who indulged in
these unbridled relations were sickly sentimentalists, as a rule, and
were thrown out or ignored by all forceful society. One had to be
strong, eager, determined and abstemious if wealth was to come, and then
it had to be held by the same qualities. One could not relax. Otherwise
one became much what he was now, a brooding sentimentalist--diseased in
mind and body.

So out of love-excitement and poverty and ill health and abuse he was
coming to see or thought he was this one fact clearly,--namely that he
must behave himself if he truly wished to succeed. Did he want to? He
could not say that. But he had to--that was the sad part of it--and
since apparently he had to, he would do the best he could. It was grim
but it was essential.

At this time Eugene still retained that rather ultra artistic appearance
which had characterized his earlier years, but he began to suspect that
on this score he was a little bizarre and out of keeping with the spirit
of the times. Certain artists whom he met in times past and recently,
were quite commercial in their appearance--the very successful ones--and
he decided that it was because they put the emphasis upon the hard facts
of life and not upon the romance connected with their work. It impressed
him and he decided to do likewise, abandoning the flowing tie and the
rather indiscriminate manner he had of combing his hair, and thereafter
affected severe simplicity. He still wore a soft hat because he thought
it became him best, but otherwise he toned himself down greatly. His
work with Deegan had given him a sharp impression of what hard, earnest
labor meant. Deegan was nothing but a worker. There was no romance in
him. He knew nothing about romance. Picks and shovels and mortar boards
and concrete fo