"Oh, why did you come here?" I positively moaned, as he and I both rose
and I put out my hand as if to force him out of that aloneness in which
we stood together.
"America must lead the world in spiritual as well as material
regeneration, and this is the only real and dispassionate America, with
no foreign pull on its vitals. You must wake up; the cry has been heard
to 'Come over and help.' Why do you fight the--"
"I can't help fighting. I must do what I conscientiously believe--" I
was saying with my hand still outstretched against him, when suddenly
the still place around us was invaded with a crash and its invisible
walls thrown down.
"Charlotte!" came in Nickols' languid, fascinating voice that always
draws me to the edge of his world. "And Greg Goodloe, by all that is
good and holy--in tennis flannels!"