I told him what Anthy had said, and of what I felt to be a new effort to control the policies of the Star. But Nort slowly shook his head.
"No, David. This is the end. I have finished with Hempfield."
I wish I could convey the air of resigned determination that was in his words; also the cynicism. Pooh! If Hempfield didn't want him, Hempfield could go hang. He was at the age when he thought he could get away from life. He had not learned that the only way to get on with life is not to get out of it, but to get into it.
He told me that he had wired for money to go home; he drew his brows down in a hard scowl and stared out over the river.
"I've stopped fooling with life," said he tragically.
I could have laughed at him, and yet, somehow, I loved him. It was a great moment in his life. I sat down by him under the beech.
"I'm going to be free," said Nort. "I'm going to do things yet in this world."
"Free of what, Nort?" I asked.
"Ed Smith—for one thing."
"Have you thought that wherever you go you will be meeting Ed Smiths?"