Or else—it’s home again: to sleep and feed,
And work, and hate them always and obey
And loathe the punctual rise of each new day.”
9
He made mad work among them as he dressed,
With motley choice and litter on the floor,
And each thing as he found it seemed the best.
He wondered that he had not known before
How fair a man he was. “I’ll creep no more
In secret,” Dymer said. “But I’ll go back