ification, it is to this day.
Like Cain, I was branded--branded by Nature with the stamp of abnormal
ugliness, as I was gifted by Nature with iron and abnormal strength and
considerable intellectual powers. So ugly was I that the spruce
young men of my College, though they were proud enough of my feats of
endurance and physical prowess, did not even care to be seen walking
with me. Was it wonderful that I was misanthropic and sullen? Was it
wonderful that I brooded and worked alone, and had no friends--at least,
only one? I was set apart by Nature to live alone, and draw comfort
from her breast, and hers only. Women hated the sight of me. Only a week
before I had heard one call me a "monster" when she thought I was out
of hearing, and say that I had converted her to the monkey theory. Once,
indeed, a woman pretended to care for me, and I lavished all the pent-up
affection of my nature upon her. Then money that was to have come to me
went elsewhere, and she discarded me. I pleaded with her as I have never
pleaded with any living creature before or since, for I was caught by
her sweet face, and loved her; and in the end by way of answer she took
me to the glass, and stood side by side with me, and looked into it.

"Now," she said, "if I am Beauty, who are you?" That was when I was only
twenty.

And so I stood and stared, and felt a sort of grim satisfaction in the
sense of my own loneliness; for I had neither father, nor mother, nor
brother; and as I did so there came a knock at my door.

I listened before I went to open it, for it was nearly twelve o'clock at
night, and I was in no mood to admit any stranger. I had but one friend
in the College, or, indeed, in the world--perhaps it was he.

Just then the person outside the door coughed, and I hastened to open
it, for I knew the cough.

A tall man of about thirty, with the remains of great personal beauty,
came hurrying in, staggering beneath the weight of a massive iron box
which he carried by a handle with his right hand. He placed the box upon
the table, and then fell into an awful fit of coughing. He coughed and
coughed till his face became quite purple, and at last he sank into
a chair and began to spit up blood. I poured out some whisky into a
tumbler, and gave it to him. He drank it, and seemed better; though his
better was very bad indeed.

"Why did you keep me standing there in the cold?" he asked pettishly.
"You know the draughts are death to me."

"I di