He got up and stretched his lean, hard-muscled frame, calling for his
valet, who came at once and began helping him dress. This act was by
now such a matter of ritual that it left his mind soft and dreamlike,
free to think again of that mystical creature of beauty and innocence,
so unlike the others, that he would woo, and take as his wife.
That he had done nothing to earn, and therefore to deserve such a
blessing, that real love could not possibly find him until he stopped
using and hurting all who came within his reach---these were thoughts
which could never occur to him. Rather, it seemed unlikely that he
would ever wake from the dream of dominance and superiority in which
he had been raised. For he had been born into wealth, and taught
(though not by his father, who in fact had taken little hand in his
upbringing) that his noble birth entitled him to both material
satisfaction, and the subservient respect of all around him. And
because the world could not possibly live up to this contrived and
irrational viewpoint, he was forever angry, feeling cheated, though by
whom he could not say, of the peace and happiness that were rightfully
his.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72