One may as well preach a respectable mythology as anything else.
But a girl of seventeen is not always thinking of books, especially in the Oxford summer term.
A victim to certain obscure forms of gout, he was in character neither stupid, nor inhuman, but he suffered from the usual drawbacks of his class, - too much money, and too few ideas.
Is there any other slavery and chain like that of temperament?
Every man is bound to leave a story better than he found it.
In this choice, as I look back over more than half a century, I can only follow - and trust - the same sort of instinct that one follows in the art of fiction.