CONTENTS - CHAPTER -INTRODUCTO . RY . . TIEEI I, LUSIOS O S F YOUTH . . . TIZES AGACITI o E F S AGE . . . DIES IAGNA, ET--. IARA . A NOVEL T IIESIS . ADIEUX . EN L O U T E A n oiv . THE I E A L X I S OF DIS . TIIES TRAYERDE VELL E I . CIRCE CKITICAL A XD EXPOSITOR . Y RACIAL C IIAI ACTERISTICS . WEIGIIISG AN CIIOR AYLESBURG . I I I XCIIANT IEST A LASTA PIIORISJ . I DI I XCIIAST . I EIST TIII S T R-IXGE A R N D 111s GODS . I CI, E CT C IC AT II LICISJ . . I TIIES CI IIEI TG E SDT II EUTIIANASI . A THE R IIIXEF L rAr. . s TIIE IIALT, OF 1 4 1 1 1 . 1 I I T I U I S . J I vii PAGE 3 17 29 43 53 65 79 95 107 118 129 140 153 166 181 104 207 220 233 2-19 262 275 286 SOG 321 . . . Vlll CONTEXTS XSS I I. S S S I 1 1 . SSS1S. S r,. S I, I . XI, I. PAGE IIIIC Sr. c r 01 , r r r 1 i 1s c . . 337 , l i t l . i r 1 I I.. S, I IC . 3.50 3 1 - 1 1 0 1 I I A - . I . I . . 3Gti - 1 l L i 2 - I i S S I . I . s i . 3 73 CI OSS CL I F S I. S . 392 I I I 114 i r s I I IC . 4 0 I c v I - IY s I. . I 1 1 1 1 1 1 i r . 1 . 321 l Al o 1 s 1 531i 311 1 1 1 1 . . l 1 I I C S ASI C. 1.17.11 1-. . 4 .-l l I, I. C J O S I 1 I 1 or. o-. . C l AI Ih. h, r AS 1 ITS S F JTTKS T. S . . lho I SI. II , LTS OS . - l I, o-ooI . . GO I A l r r - o r . 527 1 1 r s r o s . . 511 I 1 1 0 1 1 S s 1 0 S s I . O X . 5.76 11 I-T1. l 3 1 . , - I. 1 l 1 . 570 BOOK I LUKE DELMEGE CHAPTER 1 -- INTRODUCTORY -- IT happened in this way. I was absorbed in a day dream - an academic discussion with myself as to whether demand created supply or supply elicited demand - a hoary question throughout all the debating societies of the world and I was making but little progress toward its solution, when suddenly it solved itself in a remarkable manner. I thought I heard, above the rumbling and muffled thunder of the colosssl printing press, far away in a certain street in New York, the word Copy shouted up through a telephone. The voice was the voice of that modern magician, the foreman printer. Copy echoed in the managers room, where, amid piles of paper, damp, and moist, and redolent of printers ink, the great potentate sat. Copy, he shouted through his telephone, with something that sounded like a prayer - but it wasnt - to the editor, many miles away. Copy, shouted the editor through his telephone - no that hasnt come yet, but it will one of these days. But Copy, he wrote three thousand miles across the bleak, barren wastes of the turbulent Atlantic to one sitting on a rustic seat in a quiet garden in a country village beneath the shadows of the black mountains that separate Cork County from Limerick, and with Spensers gentle Mulla almost washing his feet and a Copy settled the academic question forever. That mighty modern Minotaur, the press, must be glutted, not with fair youths of Arcacly and fair maidens of Athens, but with thoughts that spril g from the brains of mortals, and dreams that dral t heir beautiful, irregular forms across the twilight realms of Fancy. This it is that malres literary men irreverent and ui1scyupulons. Was it not said of Balzac, that he dug alld dragged every one of his roilmilces straight froin tlle heart of seine woman l Truth is stranger than fiction. No my dear friend, for all fictioil is truth - truth torn up by. the roots fro111 bleeding human hearts, and carefully bound with fillets of words to be placed there in its vases of green and gold on your reading-desk, on your hrealrfast-table. Horrid So it is... --This text refers to the Paperback edition.