“Then it’s for you to judge.”
“I don’t judge nothin’, Martin,” said Rio, standing and facing him. “But if you ain’t, why d’you hang around them?”
“‘Them’?” asked Martin, with a bleak smile. “If you could see yourself standing there, frightened of yourself, frightened of me, frightened of symbols——”
“I tell you, I’m not like that!” interrupted Rio, his hands back of him.
“Perhaps you are,” said Martin quietly.
“Clear that up.” Rio was leaning slightly forward in dignified, yet dangerously immobile restraint. “Clear that up fast.”
Martin spoke earnestly, without resentment.
“Before you ever ask another man that question, Rio, go to the mirror and ask it of yourself. Perhaps the answer will be—‘thou, too’!”
Rio kept the same tense attitude.
“You mean I am?” he asked slowly. “You better explain it well this time. Show me your point.”